#i entered my email address clicked next and nothing happened

[psqqa]

tumblr’s up to some fun new shenanigans i see

[ghost-the-courier]

Prologue

30 minutes before Time 0

The room was dark, only the glow of the monitors and the power button on his gaming headset providing any light.  He was an early riser by nature, and being up at 3 am was nothing new for him.  Years of business travel had shifted his sleep patterns from a more standard early riser to something else all together.  Being fully awake and at the computer at this hour was just another weekend.

He’d started something not too long ago, a silly little investigation into a mystery he had always wondered about.  Marianna’s Web.  Supposedly some corner of the internet far deeper and darker than anything an onion browser would get someone to.  He had gone about it in a very amateurish way; the bulk of the work being done on more prevalent search engines rather than exchanging information on any dark website.  Surprisingly though, he found a trail.

It was subtle, and probably just random noise, but a mismatched address between a company that hosted a website and the physical address had started things and as he investigated further, he found more and more errors.  He wasn’t sure if they were shell corporations or just a weird collection of errors, but after a few weeks of poking through websites, digging up data, then cross referencing that with other sources – he arrived at a website.  A simple black background with a text box that simply asked him to enter his email address with a “Submit” button.

He figured the worst that could happen would be he’s bombarded with spam emails for the next 6 months.  He entered his email address and clicked submit.

A chatbox popped up.  The same type that a lot of websites use to answer basic questions.  He immediately tried to close it, but it persisted.

M: Hello, what brings you here today?

He tried to close it again.

M: Would you please stop that, it’s very irritating.

He paused, that wasn’t the type of response you typically see from a chatbot.

M: Thank you, I’d like to know why you’re here?

He responded with I was curious about Marianna’s web, just to see if it was out there.  I’m guessing this isn’t it though.

M: It is, we’re not big on advertising.  Was there something in particular you were hoping to learn?

He thought for a minute, then his headphones roared to life with a synthetic female voice startling him,” If you would unmute your microphone we could speak directly, I suspect you may find that easier.”

She continued,” as I asked before, is there something in particular you wanted to learn?  Or were you just browsing.”

He collected himself.  “I suppose I was just browsing actually.  The headphone thing is impressive, so I’m guessing you’ve already stole my banking and credit information?”

“I could if I wanted to,” she responded, maybe a bit playfully, but he could be imagining things. “From my perspective you don’t have anything worth stealing though, but you may have something to offer.” “Since you’ve been on my website I’ve been looking into you, and I have an opening in my organization that you would be well suited for.”

He paused, this certainly was not going at all how he expected, but he was also intrigued.  Whoever she was, she was the type of hacker they write stories and make movies about.  She could probably do nearly anything she wanted to him considering the trick with the headset.

“What kind of opening?” he asked cautiously.  He was growing increasingly worried he was about to be blackmailed into doing something illegal.

“It would be a courier position moving items between various organizations I work with.”

“I know you can probably blackmail me into doing about anything at this point, but I don’t want to be involved in anything illegal.”

“It would not be illegal.  Perhaps this video I’ve prepared would help.”

A video opened on his screen, it looked straight out of the late 90’s where computer animation was just beginning.  A blocky looking person walks up to what seemed to be a cheesy looking werewolf to get a package.  The scene then switched to the person driving a van, followed by them getting out and handing the package to what appeared to be a blocky vampire modeled after movies from the 1950’s.

“The organizations I work with are not always comfortable using typical shipping services,” she added at the end of the video.  “Some of the items they trade between each other would either raise uncomfortable questions or are unusually precious.  My organization is looking to provide a means of secure trade between these organizations to help maintain the peace between them.”

He was quiet, rolling what she just said over in his head and thinking about the video.  After nearly a minute he asked,” the clients in the video, those weren’t costumes, or just put in there to be funny, were they?”

“No, I can render a more visually accurate video for you.  I was hoping the introduction video would be charming.”

“It was cute,” he got out just before another video popped up.  The scenes were identical to before, but looking like they came straight out of Hollywood last week.  He was the person in the video, the werewolf towered 3 feet over him and was rendered in incredible detail as it handed him the package.  And at the delivery the vampire was stone still, its eyes glowing a gentle blue, the movement was so unexpected he jumped a bit in his chair when it went to get the package from his on-screen clone.

“That may be a more accurate representation of your duties.”

He was quiet again, mulling everything over. “You’re not a hacker, are you?”

“I think it’s most accurate to say I am not only a hacker,” definitely a playful tone in her response that time.

“What would be the terms of employment?”

“You would be in my employment for the rest of your life, should we decide it is time for you to retire you will continue to receive your full employment benefits.  There is no salary but I will provide you with everything you need for work, as well as anything you need to relax.  I ensure a good work life balance for all my employees.  We offer full healthcare though it may not always be in the form you are used to.  In return, you will give up your entire identity.  You will stay where I instruct you and will likely not be in any place for more than a few days.  This is for your safety.”

“May I have a few minutes to think about this?”

“Of course,” all the windows blinked off, maybe her way of giving him some privacy.

 He weighed her offer carefully.  His life was not bad, but certainly nothing extraordinary.  The work seemed like it would be fairly mundane for the most part, though the “This is for your safety” part did have him a bit worried.  He did enjoy being on the road for the most part, so constant travel would not bother him as long as all the other needs were being met.  There was one thing bothering him though.

“Miss?”

“Have you reached a decision?”

“Almost, but I need to know something first.  Why me?”

“First of all, your consistent interest in the paranormal means you would be unlikely to react negatively to our clientele.  Additionally, you’ve shown consistent intelligence and professionalism in your current profession, and I believe you would continue to maintain that in this role.”

He interjected, “I wouldn’t be going ‘oh my god a real werewolf!’ to anyone.”

“Correct.  Lastly, you have few social connections.  This makes it easier for you to disappear.”  She paused,” it’s interesting, it seems more that people are prone to forgetting about you than anything else.  Not harboring any negative feelings, but very much out of sight, out of mind.  I believe this quality may prove very useful in this position.”

“How’s that?”

“It will make you more difficult to follow if they cannot easily remember you.”

He paused again, reviewing everything she went over in his head one last time.  “I’ll accept the position.  What do you need me to do?”

“Please turn on any electronics you have that may store personal information.  This includes the old phone you have stored and your laptop.  I will sanitize the devices while you pack.  Please bring enough clothing and toiletries for at least 1 week.  Clothing worn in public should be devoid of any easily identified logos or designs.  Clothing worn in the privacy of your hotel room can be decorated however you like.”

He followed her instructions; he saw each of his electronic devices acting as if someone was interfacing with it at a speed that no human could match.  He picked up the headset then heard her voice from his phone’s speaker.

“Please get your phone and laptop, they’ve been secured and will be sufficient for the time being.  I’ve a ride on the way for you which will arrive in about 3 minutes.  I’ve booked you on a private flight to Arizona where you will pick up the remainder of your equipment.”

“Anything else you need me to do here?” he asked her while looking around the apartment.

“No, I’ll take care of everything.  You should probably head outside.”

He dutifully did as he was told.  Then a thought dawned on him,

“What do I call you?” he asked a bit embarrassed, this should have happened much earlier in the conversation.

“Marianna of course!” she chirped.  She was clearly excited.  He had figured out she was an AI, but her reactions were far more human than he had expected.  “I’m very excited that you have decided to work for me.”  Had she been in front of him he imagined she would have been beaming.  “From now on you will be known only as Ghost.”

6 months after Time 0

“I’m still surprised that no one asked any questions with a company name like that,” he said in the cab of his pickup truck, talking mostly to himself.  It was about getting close to 4 am and Ghost was pulling into the parking lot of a pharma company located in the midwest.  It was another item to pick up.  He knew the routine at this point, it would be a bit unpleasant, but there wouldn’t be any issues.  Security let him through, and he drove back to the edge of the loading area.

A small but scrappy woman he had run into before barked at him,” you here for the pickup?”

“Yes ma’am,” he responded.  He wasn’t sure if he recognized him or not, though it didn’t matter either way.  He opened the bed as 2 large men brought over a metal crate.  The older one Ghost had seen before, the young one was new.  Given the nature of who he was making the pickup from Ghost knew what was coming next.

As the young one moved away from the truck he changed his path just a little bit to try to bump into Ghost; the typical “oh, sorry buddy,” as he’d nearly knock him down.  Ghost leaned back just as the young one was about to connect, he caught a smile on the guys face as he passed.  He didn’t catch what happened next.

Once the young one was clear of Ghost, he was standing, then he was standn’t.  His head on the ground with the rest of him crumpled up.

“Not him! Not ever him!” the scrappy woman yelled.  She had shifted her right arm into her wolf form and apparently clocked him.  Ghost hadn’t seen any of that, with as fast as she was, and how difficult partial transformations were, Ghost figured she was probably one of the higher ranking pack members in the area.  The older one waited until the woman nodded at him, then dragged the young one back to the building.

“I’m sorry about that, these new ones are dumber than usual.”  She shifted her right arm back to a human arm, the sleeve of her shirt was ruined.  “And thank you,” she added.

Ghost just nodded.  Had the hit connected all hell would have broken loose.  Marianna didn’t tolerate harassment of any of her people, and retaliation was swift and harsh.  Had the young one connected the company’s stock would have been tanked the second the markets opened, any agency that could audit the company would, any outstanding debt would come due, and likely all at the same time; and that’s if Marianna was being nice.  He’d been informed that if she was not being nice, drone strikes and small orbital weapons were not off the table, though he had yet to see anything like that.

He got in the truck, and the GPS showed his destination as someplace near New York City.  The traffic would suck, but at least the food up there was good assuming Marianna let him get some pizza or breakfast from a diner in Jersey.

As he left the property Marianna finally spoke up,” She’s still yelling at him, in this case I don’t think any additional punishment would be necessary.  Are you ok with allowing the issue to remain an internal matter, or would you like me to get involved?”

“I don’t want to be involved in those decisions if it can be avoided.  I’m good with whatever you want to do,” Ghost responded.  He tried not to wish ill on anyone.  The guy probably got turned only a few months ago, and like most werewolves had a big chip on his shoulder.  The hit from the woman there certainly removed that chip, and the guy was lucky it didn’t take his head off with it.  “One way or another I doubt he’ll ever be a problem again.”

Ghost made his way to the highway.  At least the delivery would be easier, the vampires in that area were far easier to deal with.

[bruhstories]

Baby, I’ve Already got Your Heart

Summary: An accidental meeting between Armin and Y/N leads to an unhealthy obsession. Pairing: Armin Arlert x Fem!Reader (modern AU) Warnings: stalking, language, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), oral sex (female receiving), switch!Reader, switch!Armin, rope is involved. Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N: This fic is heavily inspired by this song. It is surprisingly wholesome, considering the tags xD

Armin Arlert. The purest man in the world. You accidentally met him one cold, rainy day when he entered your coffee shop for shelter and warmth. He naively talked to you, grateful for how nice you were with him, grateful for the cappuccino on the house, grateful for the towel you offered him to dry himself off. Little did Armin know, a fixation sprouted in your mind and heart, developing into the unhealthiest obsession. He was just so cute — and you just had to have him. It helped to know that you were both going to the same university, and after that, you knew everything about him: his Facebook, Instagram, email address, hell, you even knew his real address. To be fair, it was a piece of cake, the boy was absolutely clueless and whenever he 'accidentally' met you, he thought it was by pure chance. The next and most obvious step was to befriend people in his social circle, one Jean Kirstein, one Sasha Braus and one Connie Springer. Naturally, you did your homework, and you knew his best friends were Eren Jaeger and Mikasa Ackerman, but they weren't easy targets. Besides, it would jeopardise your entire plan, as you found Armin was considered a genius. An oblivious genius. He didn't know it yet, but you loved him and he loved you too, right?

A text from Sasha, months after you first met the angelic man, set your plan in motion. A casual gaming night at Armin's place, and you were invited. How perfect. Poor glutton Sasha had no fucking clue how much you were using her, how you told her you want to meet a cute guy, someone nice and caring, someone smart and attentive. The girl put two and two together and decided she just had to introduce you to one of her friends, especially that he was also interested in meeting a girl like you. Unbelievable — you acted surprised, met up with Sasha and left for Armin's little gaming night. You wouldn't let this opportunity go to waste. Starting from tonight, he'd be yours. Forever.

"Armiiiiiiiiin, I brought a plus one!" Sasha barged into his house. "This is my friend, Y/N. Y/N, Armin! Oh shit, pretzels!" The brown-haired woman left the two of you in the hallway and the blond flashed you a smile.

"I feel like I've seen you before." He mused as he closed the door behind you.

"If you ever drink coffee at Rose's you might've seen me there." You smiled and removed your leather jacket, revealing a Pearl Jam t-shirt.

"No way you listen to them!" Armin blurted.

"Are you kidding me? They're my favourite!" You lied through your teeth with a sickly-sweet smile.

"Mine too! Oh, I know, you're the girl who gave me a free cappuccino months ago!"

"I remember! You were drenched in rainwater." You laughed as the two of you entered the living room. "I had to mop up the puddles you left behind."

"I'm so sorry about that..." He blushed. Your heart fluttered and you couldn't wait to get your hands on him, but for the time being, you needed to behave.

"No worries, I just hope you didn't catch a cold." You assured Armin and sympathetically placed a hand on his shoulder. There he goes, blushing again. It couldn't be... was he a virgin? Fuck. This was better than you could've imagined.

"Who's this?"

"Oh, Mikasa, Eren, this is Y/N. She's friends with Sasha."

"Nice to meet you!" Eren shook your hand. "Oh, God, you listen to Pearl Jam, too? You nerds are going to get along just fine." He joked.

The night went great, and you actually had fun with Armin and his friends, despite not intending to mingle with them too much. People started leaving around 2 am, but Eren and Mikasa stayed longer. Too fucking long — and things were boring now anyway. You and Armin kept talking about video games and books, Mikasa fell asleep on Eren who was playing fucking Farmville on his phone. They had to leave as soon as possible.

"Hey, Y/N, we can take you home." Eren suggested and you froze. Shit.

"Didn't you say you're almost out of gas?" Armin questioned his friend.

"Ah, fuck, you're right. I still don't know how that happened — I fuelled the tank yesterday!" The brunette scoffed. "Guess you're on your own, Y/N."

"It's alright, I'll take an uber." You politely smiled.

"Alright, we'll wait for you."

Oh, for fuck's sake. Truth be told, you appreciated how nice and caring Armin's friends were, but you had a different goal to accomplish.

"You really don't have to, plus I have to use the bathroom." You excused yourself. "Um, where is the bathroom exactly?"

"Upstairs, first door on the right." Armin told you while gathering plates and cups from the table. You nodded and climbed up the stairs. Your hand hovered over the bathroom doorknob for a good minute, eyes drifting to the door next to it. Armin's bedroom, by the looks of it. Surely, you could take a look, right? Fuck it. You opened the second door and at first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. LED and fairy lights encircled a corner of his room and, curiously, you walked closer to see what that was, because it didn't look like a desk. Your Y/E/C widened when you saw tens of framed photographs of yourself on the square table, objects you thought you lost and — Jesus, was that your bra? A rush of anxiety hit you, but before you could do anything, a blow to your head blurred your vision.

•°☆°•☆•°☆°•

Dark lashes fluttered as you opened your eyes. The sudden realisation that you were naked and restrained to a bed made you jolt. What just happened?

"Fucking finally, I thought you'd never wake up." Armin greeted you, but his voice was different, deeper and darker.

"Ar-ugh, Armin?" You groaned at the stinging sensation at the back of your head.

"You know, I was relieved you didn't leave with Sasha, otherwise you would've slipped between my fingers again."

Again?

"Ugh, and Eren and his stupid idea. 'We'll take you home.'" He mocked his best friend with a high pitch. "I've been dreaming for this moment since I walked into that shitty coffee shop."

You were at a loss for words. This was not the Armin you fantasised about, not the Armin you wanted. He was much more and much worse. And. So. Much. Better.

Alright then, you'd put up a show for him.

"P-please, Armin, please untie m-me! I'll be good, I p-promise!" You stuttered and whimpered, trying your best to sound genuine.

"Why, so you can run away?" The blond scoffed. So, he didn't know you stalked him. What a twist.

"I won't r-run, I swear!"

"Bullshit." Armin bent over your body, hands around your neck. You gasped and pretended to be startled by his touch, but in reality, your core was already burning with lust. You knew you couldn't keep up with this charade. "No, Y/N, I won't untie you. But we'll have so much fun." He sneered.

"You promise?"

"Yes. Wait—"

Your laughter filled the bedroom, genuine laughter that baffled Armin. Was this some sort of reverse psychology trick?

"Oh, Armin, even when you reveal your true colours, you're still oblivious to the reality of what's in front of you."

"Then enlighten me, what am I so oblivious to?" He folded his arms across his chest and waited.

"The fact that this was my fucking plan, too." You stretched as much as your restraints allowed you to and licked your lips. "I guess we both stalked each other without even knowing. How ridiculous."

"I think I would've known if you stalked me, Y/N."

"Really? Let me prove it, then. Your favourite food's Carbonara pasta, your favourite drink is peach and lychee iced tea, favourite movie is Interstellar, you lived on Sheena street until you were 12–"

"That's common knowledge, Sasha could've told you any of that." Armin blurted, growing impatient.

"You watch BDSM and asphyxiation porn between 10 pm and 11 pm every Tuesday, you're a virgin, you own a fleshlight–"

"Fuck, alright!" He threw his hands in the air, defeated. "So, what next?"

"You untie me and you tear me apart, Armin, that's what's next."

The blond hesitated before removing the cuffs on your ankles, still unsure about the ropes around your wrists. Clearly, you weren't making things up, but what were the chances of both of you stalking each other? For a brief moment, Armin felt guilty for hitting you and practically holding you captive, and you could see that on his face, but obsession and desire soon took over, and he reverted back to his darker self. His soft hands moved from your ankles to your knees, up your thighs and stomach, stopping above your chest, deciding it's best if you're not fully free. Armin licked his lips and climbed on top of you, unbuttoning his flannel shirt. You thought was surprisingly strong for such a thin man, but when the unbuttoned shirt revealed his chiselled abdomen, it made sense why he was strong.

"The wrists, Armin." You insisted but the blond clicked his tongue.

"I like you better when you're helpless." He pressed his lips onto yours in a hot kiss. A great kiss, you thought, your tongues wrestling for supremacy.

"Please, I want to touch you! I need to..." You trailed off, intoxicated by his smell, notes of saffron and cardamom. His hands roamed your shoulders, tickling your axilla and groping your breasts. "Please let me touch you, Armin!" You begged again, but he didn't say a word, his hot breath fanning over your oversensitive nipples, goosebumps all over your skin. His pink tongue poked out of his mouth and you watched him painstakingly slowly lick one of your nipples. It literally pained you to be unable to touch him, pull him closer to you. Alas, you had no choice, and despite yearning to be in control, it aroused you to have him control you.

"You smell so sweet." He abruptly stopped. "I bet you taste sweet, too."

"Armin..." His words made you brace yourself. While you weren't a virgin, you've never had anyone eat you out. The blond was already in between your legs, one hand resting under your thigh, the other gently touching your slick folds. Armin was so careful, like you were made of glass, and the ticklish sensation didn't help you at all. You wanted him to ram his cock inside of you and rearrange your guts, but he wanted to take his sweet time. The teasing only made you dizzy with pleasure, and you bucked your hips, trying to get him to move faster.

"You really need to learn to be patient, Y/N." Armin purred, pressing gentle kisses on your thighs. He lazily dragged his tongue across your slit, electricity shooting through your body. God, how you wanted to rip those ropes apart. Two fingers entered you and the blond gingerly licked your clit.  

"Fuck– so... so good ah–" You couldn't form a sentence even if your life counted on it. Gradually, you could feel your orgasm building up and Armin sensed it, picking up the pace. His fingers thrusted harder and you arched your back, the intensity too much for you. "Armin, please! I wanna come with your cock in me!" The begging didn't stop him, he was determined to make you finish then and there. And he did — within seconds you melted under his touch, legs trembling with pleasure. Armin pulled back, his mouth messy with saliva mixed with your juices.

"You come when I want you to come." His voice was low, almost like a growl. He unbuttoned his jeans, and you watched him like a hawk, waiting to see just how big his was, and you were not disappointed.

"Please please please let me suck it, please!" You begged him, eager to taste him. He smirked and kissed you, all the while rubbing his cock.

"You want this?" Armin quirked a brow at you. The little shit, jacking off in front of you and you couldn't even do anything about it.

"Armin..."

"Say it. Say you want it."

"Armin!"

"Say it, Y/N." He groaned, precum leaking from his member. Fuck.

"I... I want it..." You eventually gave up.

"Good girl." The blond climbed back on top of you. He raised your hips and you placed your legs on his shoulder, his first thrust slow and deep. Armin couldn't help the moan escaping his lips — this was so much better than that shitty fleshlight and countless porn videos. You couldn't deny the fact that it hurt, despite your soaking cunt, but you quickly adjusted to his size. As Armin pounded you, the bed underneath the two of you started moving and screeching, and the ropes tied to the metal bedframe loosened and you felt your arms fall onto the pillows. In his frenzy, the blond didn't notice, so you took this opportunity to lower your legs and wrap them around his waist, one hand grabbing his soft locks, the other wrapping around his neck. You used his weight against him and turned him over. You were in control.

Armin was taken aback by this, but the feeling of your fingers squeezing his throat only turned him on more. You bounced up and down, throwing your head back and groaning. He gripped your hips tightly, thrusting his own hips against yours.

"F-fuck me harder, Y/N!" He begged and you sped up. You felt like a queen — no, a goddess — when he asked you to fuck him, the feeling of him inside of you so addictive. He was your drug, and your rehab, your poison, and your antidote. And you were his and his only. His cock was twitching in your cunt and knew he was close but you didn't want to risk it. Swiftly, you got off of him and wrapped your lips around his dick, bobbing your head up and down. It didn't take long for him to finish, hot liquid shooting down your throat with one final grunt. You swallowed it all and threw yourself next to him. It was breaking dawn already, but you weren't tired. Physically, yes, both of you were exhausted, but mentally it felt like you discovered a hidden gem.

"What the fuck did we just do?" Armin calmly caressed your hair as you nuzzled his neck.

"Are we talking about the obsessively stalking each other part or the part where you hit me in the head? Or the fucking?"

"The everything." He explained. "This is wrong."

"Did it feel wrong?" You asked him, your fingers idly tracing circles over his chest.

"Well, no..."

"Then it's not wrong." You shrugged. "Am... am I yours?"

"Yes." The blond instantly replied without a trace of hesitation in his voice. "Am I?"

"You've been mine the moment you set foot in that shitty coffee shop." You laughed.

"And what are we going to tell the others?"

"That we ended up talking all night and I stayed over?"

"Sounds like a plan." Armin kissed your forehead.

"By the way, I really don't like Pearl Jam." You admitted.

He laughed and it filled your heart with warmth. You have no idea why you and Armin were like that, or how things would be from now on, but you had a good feeling about it. Things were okay. You two were okay.

[charming-mage]

Exposed by the Media Prompts Part 2

I didn’t expect that much Exposed by the Media prompts. I thought the well was dry. I was wrong. Should’ve known not to underestimate the internet and reality TV shows.

Exposed by the Media Prompts Part 1

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Lies in the Media is a Different Beast: Adrien grew up in the media spotlight. He knows it’s usually not a good idea to confront the rumors in the tabloids. It gives the rumors some credibility. When he sees Lila confront a rumor that bothers her a bit too much, he doesn’t stop her. Confronting a lie in the media needs a different method than someone lying in your personal life. Just because he’s doing the high road doesn’t mean he’s going to stop her from committing a crucial mistake.

Civilian Friends Are Okay Now: It’s well known Ladybug won’t make friends in her hero persona. She’ll be friendly and kind, but with a polite distance. People accepted it after a while. This changes after Lila’s interview on the Ladyblog. People assume Ladybug changed her mind about it since there’s no retraction article.  Civilians become more pushy and want to have more personal relations. From regular people to higher ranking citizens. (ex. No more formality, more personal rapport, friendship, or even the start of an epic romance.) A few uncomfortable situations and angry citizens forces Ladybug to address this.

Total Drama Island: The Miraculous users find out one of the prizes in a new season of the Total Drama Island reality TV show is an important Miraculous artifact. It could be anything from a Miraculous to a secret Guardian book. The heroes and villains are forced to participate as none of them found the item in time. Marinette and Adrien go in their civilian selves while Hawkmoth sends in Lila. Lila tries hard to hide her true self, but the contestants do find out.

Forgot to Log Out: Lila forgets to log out of her social media accounts in the school library. She gets distracted by something and clicks on minimize instead of the close tab on her browser. Since Lila didn’t log out of her session and the next person who gets the computer didn’t bother to do so either, her tabs are still there. The person is a noisy gossip and scrolls through them. They are intrigued by what they find. They decide to take screenshots and uploads them to the school website forum page. For the drama of course. (This is based on my experience when I was in high school and the library in my city. It was common to just close the browser and not bother to log out. The next person only logged out if they needed something from their own account. It’s not worth it to log in and out just for some internet searching.)

Dear Abby: Marinette, needing advice from a third party about Lila’s lying, sends an email to the Dear Abby column. (Or France’s equivalent.) She figures since Abby has no connection to either her or Lila, the writer can give her unbiased advice. She does her best to make the details as vague as possible so everyone in her life (including Lila) can have privacy. Her message is replied to and included in an article weeks later. Her request and Abby’s reply becomes popular amongst readers. Marinette did make a mistake, though. One of the examples she gives about “Lemon” is unique enough that someone eventually finds an interview on the Ladybug suspiciously similar to the lie. Marinette stopped watching new Lila interviews because it enraged her too much. She doesn’t want to deal with Lila after school hours as well. So she’s not aware Lila also mentioned it in an interview. Dear Abby readers dig through the interviews and discover nothing but lies. The Dear Abby column and the Ladybug drama gets big enough to be covered by the media.

Real Life Works Differently Than Fiction : A few classmates end up in a situation like Lila tells in her stories. Believing in Lila, they do what Lila claimed she did thinking it would work out the same. It doesn’t turn out so well. They get scolded by involved parties not to do that again. A reporter on the scene interviews them. It comes out why they did it. Lila’s lies are exposed as the fiction they are.

Tsurugi Influence: Kagami’s status as Adrien’s girlfriend makes Lila switch targets. Marinette is in the back burner until Lila deals with her new love rival. Her plans to deal with Kagami backfires and brings media attention. Lila was too used to love rivals not doing any major action towards her. The wrath of the Tsurugi family is brought upon her. She realizes afterwards how influential and powerful the family is.

Adrien’s Phone is Stolen Again: And this time the phone thief is caught. Lila steals Adrien’s phone to post social media posts an hour later gushing about Lila/or talking about in her a positive light. By the time Adrien finds out, he can’t take back what “he” said without controversy. Which Mr. Agreste would not like. That’s Lila’s plan anyway. The problem is that Lila makes these posts while Adrien is on a surprise live interview. (Which she is unaware of.) The interviewer asks Adrien about the new posts while Adrien is clearly not on his phone/laptop. On a hunch, a quick search by Adrien leads to the discovery that his phone was stolen. The model confirms it’s his personal account and not a media team behind it. The content of the posts make Lila the main suspect.

You Can’t Delete Me Now : Lila gets in a controversy. She starts deleting comments and defending herself. Gabriel is busy in a meeting and doesn’t find out in time to stop her. Commenters get so mad at her, one of them gets the bright idea to hold up signs resembling post/comment/ or tweet. Somewhere in their message includes a line saying, “You can’t delete me now.” The idea catches on and it becomes a trend to walk around in public or near photo shoots holding signs with their comments. Everyone includes the now famous phrase in their sign.

Lila’s Wild Ride: Lila manages to steal the monkey miraculous. However, she learns the hard way why the Guardian needs to think carefully when matching someone with a miraculous. (Lila is not good at using the monkey miraculous’ power. At all.) Xuppu easily figures out what happened and makes sure to give Lila a very memorable time. The wilder it is the better. A live news crew captures footage of Ladybug furious “that lying Lila Rossi” stole a miraculous. Chat Noir is worried they’ll see a new Hawkmoth ally soon. There’s more chaos as the criminal underworld, opportunistic people, and die hard Ladybug fans enter the scene. Meanwhile, the French government is not pleased with the Italian government. An Italian diplomat’s daughter stealing a Miraculous from Ladybug herself looks very bad for relations. Looks like a secret operation that got exposed to the more paranoid members.

Hell’s Kitchen: Gordon Ramsey hosts an amateur cooking competition. An older Lila Rossi is one of the competitors. Ramsey doesn’t like her food. (or the drama she starts. And sabotaging the other competitor’s food.) Sadly for him, her cooking is barely better than the worst ones so she is able to scrap on to the next round. The execs love her for the drama. When the season airs, the contestants notice the footage was edited to make Lila look innocent. They get hate from Hell’s Kitchen fans about their meanness and most of them do what they can to defend themselves. People become interested in what Lila is like in real life. The only requirement for the prompt is for Lila to be an adult. Ramsey would not let lose on a minor.

Collaboration Gone Wrong: The Gabriel brand does a collaboration with a brand outside the fashion industry. It could be anything as long as it gets the other brand to be on the same set as Gabriel staff. Gabriel decides to give Lila bigger roles starting with this. Lila is beyond happy. A bump in the road appears when an intern around her age pulls her aside and asks her to stop lying. Lila doesn’t of course and secretly does her best to ruin the credibility of the intern before they get the idea to tell someone else. Unbeknownst to the Gabriel model, the intern is a close relative of the collaboration company’s CEO. The intern just doesn’t advertise that fact. Doesn’t want special treatment. Heads start rolling when the CEO finds out what Gabriel’s muse has done to their beloved family member. Permanently damaging a profitable business relationship is the least of Gabriel’s worries when the media gets wind of the scandal.

[omg-imagine]

Forget Me Not (Part 12/15)

Pairing: Keanu Reeves x Reader

Summary: After you wake up from a coma and realize that your memories from the last five years have been erased, Keanu works to bring back what you have lost.

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: Angst, language

A/N: Kinda nervous posting again since it’s been a while, but we’re winding down to the end of this story with only three more parts to go (2 chapters + an epilogue). As always, feedback is appreciated. Thanks for sticking around, and I hope you enjoy!

Part 11

Home.

You are home. It’s supposed to be home.

But it wasn’t. To you, it couldn’t be. 

This place feels too far from home, too foreign. You had no memories of it, no recollection of the safety and security it offers. Not even the faintest remembrance of the laughter, smiles, and tears; the fondness and the sadness these four walls have witnessed over the years. 

You can’t call it home. You don’t know where home is, and you’re not sure you have one anymore. 

Not after leaving him behind.

It’s cold and dark when you first wake, sleep weighing heavily in your eyes. A pair of curtains block out the sun from filtering into the room, leaving you to wonder if you had slept through half the day. With a yawn, you stretch, the bed underneath creaking as your body fully rouses from yet another night of fitful slumber. Almost a month back in New York, and it doesn’t make sense to keep blaming your lack of energy on the time difference.

The ache is still ever-present. The pain caused by the void in your heart remains, sharply throbbing in your chest with its refusal to go away. Two heartbreaks, two betrayals, occurring five years apart, but it feels as though not much time has passed in-between. 

It hurts to ponder about it, that evening when your seemingly perfect little world came crashing down. Hiding behind rose-tinted glasses, you were unknowingly tricked, fully caught up in a well-crafted illusion. His illusion. Love has blinded you to the sad reality, and in the end, it left you a shattered mess, a hollow shell of your former self.

You doubt you’ll ever be whole again.

Forcing yourself out from under the covers, you reach for your phone on the nightstand to check the time before scrolling through your notifications. Nothing was of interest to you, fortunately; you didn’t have the energy to respond to those you suddenly abandoned. Friends who cared about you but realized you were never close to them. Not in the way it used to be.

As you skimmed over the new texts and emails, you then came across his now unsaved number. The moment you stepped on the plane, you deleted his contact from your phone and blocked him. Yet the last messages he sent to you were still there and haven’t been read since, though you already knew what they could entail—

I’m sorry.

It was never my intention to hurt you.

Please give me another chance.

Let me fix this.

Just come back, Y/N. Come back home.

Home. There was that damn word again. You were beginning to loathe it, even more so knowing that whenever you think of home, you wind up thinking of him.

The last time you saw him was the morning after the storm. Booking a one-way ticket back to the east coast, you then spent the early hours packing as many clothes that would fit in a single suitcase. Tears had long since dried up, having none left as you headed down the stairs, ignoring the look he gave you from afar.

He was dressed in the outfit he had on the night prior; his hair disheveled, eyes bloodshot, and it was quite obvious he endured no sleep. Your resolve nearly crumbles as your gazes connect, bodies close enough that he could reach out the slightest bit, and he’d be holding your hand in the palm of his. 

Fighting the urge, you didn’t cave in. You couldn’t allow yourself to fall for it—for him. 

No, never again.

As expected, he followed you out of the house, remaining quiet as he watched the cab driver load your luggage in the trunk. You paid him no attention when he approached the vehicle once you climbed in, wanting nothing more than to escape this nightmare. With nowhere else to go and no one to turn to, you decided it was best to leave California, not that you belonged there anyway.

It played out like a scene from a movie—the taxi pulling out of the driveway slowly as the raindrops started to fall. Hearing him call out your name, his voice cracking with each syllable, made you hesitate for a beat. Perhaps you could forgive him, you had thought in that split-second. Forgive and forget; let what happened in the past stay in the past. 

But even if you did, the pain’s still there, and it was overpowering. This pain resulting from his deception had been too consuming, too unbearable to move on.

You told the driver to hurry as you couldn’t afford to miss your flight.

The atmosphere in the car was fraught with grim silence. As the house sequestered in the hills vanishes in the rearview mirror, you knew you were running away from it all. You couldn’t stand being here in LA, where every turn, every corner, and every street reminds you of a life that wasn’t truly yours. 

As idyllic it once was, you wanted no part of it anymore. Instead, you sought for familiarity, the life you used to have, the one you could only remember. 

What you thought was your real home.

Unable to hold it in any longer, you had broken down in the backseat, never feeling more alone than you did at that moment.

You wish you could forget, but it’s not that easy. It’s never easy. Memories of him linger in your mind, still tragically fresh as they haunt you day in and day out. Closing your eyes, you could see him wearing this smile that used to make your stomach flutter. You came to love his smile the same way you had loved him wholly. 

Now? Seeing it was a stab to the heart—a reminder of how he took advantage of your condition, your vulnerability. Of every lie you were fed. That smile, the one you previously hoped to wake up to for the rest of your life, had been an act, a facade. 

Everything had been a facade.

A sudden knock on the door startles you, and you clicked off the phone screen before announcing to whoever that they could come in. Your mother Nancy enters soon after, her face displaying concern when she realizes you had just woken up. She’s silent as she walks towards the window and then pushes the curtains aside, the sunlight outside immediately washing over the room. 

Briefly, you squint to adjust to the brightness, a confirmation that it was past noon already—another wasted day.

“Hey, darling,” she speaks softly as she moves to sit on the mattress beside you. “How are you doing?”

There’s no point in lying, but as much as you greatly appreciated her caringness, you didn’t want to burden her with your problems. They were yours to deal with and yours alone. 

“Better.” And that, you were. Just a week ago, you finally stopped crying yourself to sleep. “I might even go out tomorrow and look for a job. Can’t keep freeloading under your roof, right?”

You release a half-chuckle, a small attempt to lighten up the mood. It was comforting when your mother cracks a smile in response.

“Oh, hush. You’re always welcome to stay as long as you need to,” she assures, a loving warmth radiating from her tone. 

Lips pressing together, you sense that she has another thing to address. “What’s wrong?”

Nancy pauses to take a breath, shoulders rising and falling. For some reason, you’re on edge, finding yourself bracing for what was to come.

“Have you spoken to Keanu lately?”

Upon hearing his name, you swallowed away the lump in your throat. After telling your parents what had transpired, it stirred up various emotions—mainly anger from your father, sorrow from your mom. Their hearts sank as you recounted the story, tears blurring your eyes that you couldn’t see their faces. It was a good thing, however; you probably wouldn’t have reached the end.

Since then, they’ve refrained from speaking of him and to him. He’s called the house on a few occasions but could never get past the automated answering machine. Pictures of the two of you hanging on the walls were taken down shortly after the revelation, and you were unsure of who had done it. 

Your parents still couldn’t believe he was capable of such a thing. He had played them the same way you were, twisting the truth and omitting facts. Painting himself in a way that made them think allowing you to stay with him was the best decision when just months before he treated you as if you didn’t matter. 

As if he didn’t love you.

“No.” Curt, you had nothing else to say. 

“He’s a persistent one, I’ll tell you that. Left another message last night,” Nancy comments, feeling her stare as you fiddled with the hands in your lap. The next time she speaks, it’s slow and controlled. She’s careful with her words, wary of how you would react to what she has to say. “Hon, the last time you were here, you told me something. Something that I probably should have mentioned the day you woke up in the hospital.”

You tense, eyes flickering up to hers. “What is it?”

She sighs deeply, her smile fleeting and replaced by a taut frown. “I knew you and Keanu were having… problems. Not the full story, but enough that told me you’ve been unhappy for a while.”

“W-Why didn’t you bring this up then?”

“Because the second I saw him in your hospital room, I could see how much he loves you. How scared he was at the thought of nearly losing you—”

“Pfft, sure he was,” you scoff at the statement in disbelief. “What he did—you don’t do that to someone you love. You don’t lie to them, betray them. Hell, if you had given me a heads up earlier, then it would have saved me all this trouble.”

“Y/N—”

“Don’t you get it? He’s an actor. Of course, he’s good at playing pretend. Got us all believing that things were all sunshine and rainbows. He fucked up and fucked up even more by lying. I’ve always had a bad track record in relationships, so I shouldn’t have been too surprised.”

Tension hangs thickly in the air, an apology murmured at the end of a passing second. You didn’t mean to snap at your mother, to let the anger and betrayal consume you that you began taking it out on others although unwillingly. 

But you were just too goddamn hurt. Every day, the memories are suffocating you despite constantly wishing and pleading for them to disappear. That life, the one you had with Keanu, no longer exists, and yet you were still holding onto the frayed remains of it, not ready to move on—to let go. 

You grieve. You grieve and mourn for the recent past, the happiness and love you experienced in the time you were left unaware. Never have you felt so complete, so content, and much at ease. You had turned a blind eye to the signs, to the small inklings of doubt brewing inside because you thought that there was no way you could get something else as close to this.

Perhaps you were both to blame after all.

“I thought he was different,” you whisper, sorrow flowing from your words. “I thought he was the one. The man I’d settle down with, marry, and then maybe someday, be the father of my kids. We’d build an entire life together, a family, a future. The kind of life where I could look back on it fifty years from now when we’re old and gray and not regret a single thing.”

Feeling your mother’s hand come on top of yours with a light squeeze, you fought off the tears forcing their way from your eyes. You swore you would never shed a tear for Keanu ever again, but you are crumbling from within. The weak walls you put up are now tumbling down, leaving you even more vulnerable than before. 

“I want to hate him. I want him to feel my pain and suffer through it, knowing that he’s the reason why. But I can’t. Somehow, I just can’t.”

“It’s because you still love him. No matter how much it hurts, you’re still in love with him,” Nancy adds solemnly, and you nod shakily. “You’re healing, dear. So far, all you’ve done is put on a bandaid, but it doesn’t mean the wound closes up immediately. It’ll burn, it’ll bleed, and it’ll ache, and right now, that’s what you’re feeling; the pain of a fresh open wound.”

“Make the pain stop,” you mumbled incoherently as you lean against your mom’s side, wet cheeks pressed to her shoulder. “It has to stop.”

“And it will,” she promises, listening to your soft and tired cries. “It’ll take time for the wound to heal, but eventually, it will. Until then, life continues, and you would have to as well. You don’t have to go all-in right away, but don’t let this heartbreak hinder you from living, sweetie. You’re strong, and I believe you will feel that same happiness again, in one form or another. But you won’t find it unless you go out and look for it.”

For the first time in what seemed like a while, you felt something other than loss and despair. It creeps into you slowly, half-expecting a cold, crushing weight to fall heavily on your chest rather than the warmth and light it is. But as quickly as it came, the sensation subsides, a wave of loneliness, emptiness filling the vacant space surrounding your heart.

A shuddering breath released, you then reflect upon what your mother said about time and how time heals all wounds. You wonder how much time is needed until you can finally break free from the remnants of the past and breathe again. Could be days, weeks, or even months more, but it’s right there, waiting for you on the horizon. 

You may not have a place to call home, but what you do have is time.

---

Seconds turn into minutes; minutes turn into hours. The sun sets, the moon rises; bright, blues skies bleed into a fiery red before dimming to an inky darkness. The world spins on its axis as people wake, move, then sleep, and the cycle begins all over again.

Two weeks have come and gone, and life pushes onward. You could tell by the scenery outside where the season of fall has taken charge of the Northeast. Days are shorter, with nights stretching out longer as the year fades into winter. Time was flying by at a brisk pace. Very soon, a blanket of snow will cover the ground you walk on, reminding you to take a step back and admire the natural beauty of mid-November.

The crispness of the late afternoon air is refreshing as it fills your lungs, a welcome change from the hazy summer heat. Leaves that were once lively shades of green are now painted in deep hues of amber and burgundy, and they crunch beneath your boots with each leisure step down the earthy path. The nearby lake is as pristine as ever, sparkling freely underneath the rays of the ochre sun as it waits for the impending frost.

Wandering about outdoors for hours now, you were lost in your stream of thoughts. You honestly felt better, not entirely mended, but just enough that you can step out of the house and explore the quaint little town. A picturesque place, it was a perfect settlement for your retired parents where everyone knew everybody; their faces, names, the street they lived on. Boilding down to more personal details such as knowing the pets they owned, which book club they’re a part of, and any recent travels. 

When the townsfolk saw you, you sensed the feeling of familiarity. Those you passed by in the streets waved at you, and though you couldn’t exactly recall your relationship with them, it made you smile. Recently, old friends and family in the area had begun reaching out after hearing you were back. You never gave them the full explanation, only revealing that things in California did not work out, and you figured it was best to leave. 

Was it a permanent decision? Most likely. Life here is simpler, quieter. You enjoyed the peacefulness, favoring the calm atmosphere of this town much over the hustle and bustle of Los Angeles. It gave you space to think, to focus, to breathe. To reacquaint with yourself, rebuild who you are as a person by taking this journey of self-discovery. 

It’s the brand new start you desperately wanted, needed. An opportunity to find your place in this world without the past holding you back. Without the shadow of the woman you once were looming over you. And if your memories don’t ever return, which deep down, you hope they never would, you would be fine with it. 

You were tired of being stuck searching pieces of the past. You had to live.

Trekking up the gravel road leading to your parents’ home, a black car sits on top of the hill, one that you did not recognize. Perplexed, you approached the house with hesitant steps, dragging your feet through the pile of dead and dry leaves. There was a moment of panic when you noticed a man sitting on the front porch steps, hands clasped on his knees as he hung his head low, a curtain of dark hair masking his identity.

But you don’t need to think twice, for you already know who it is.

“Keanu?”

His name slipping out of your mouth feels different now. Gone is the affectionate tone that it was usually spoken in. It held no meaning, void of any warmth or tenderness. Keanu, the name is bitter on your tongue, a poison that could cause you to spiral down yet again, and saying it out loud brought upon a rage that swirls through your veins.

How dare he show up here unannounced?

As you take your breaths, one… two… three... and out, Keanu straightens his posture and meets your stern glare. Slowly, he gets up, the expression on his face hard to read. But aside from that, he looked worse for wear. The bags underneath his eyes were dark and prominent, the beard on his chin was unruly and untamed. He appears gaunt and exhausted, as if he hasn’t slept a wink ever since you walked out of the door and out of his life.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You’re the first to break the thick silence, a testament of your bravery and strength of some sort. Brows furrowing and teeth gritting in anger, it contrasts with Keanu’s lax demeanor as he steps closer. “No, stay back. You have no right to be here right now.”

“Y/N, please...” He speaks calmly, each and every one of his movements measured. “I’m not here to fight—”

“I have nothing to say to you,” you seethed, shaking your head as you stormed past him and towards the door. Tears brew in your cloudy eyes, a sign of how much he still affected you. Seeing him again after all this time only proved that the wound he had inflicted bleeds to this day.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Keanu quickly trails from behind, his voice dripping with utter desperation. “Please, just… give me a chance to talk. All you have to do is listen, and I promise you won’t ever have to see me again.”

The seriousness in his timbre causes you to halt in your tracks. Swallowing dryly, you turn around, sad, tired eyes reaching his guilt-filled ones. Keanu stands before you with a face written in despair, making him barely recognizable. The way he’s staring at you as if he’s hopeless and in pure anguish is unsettling, and you almost pitied him for it. 

“Y/N…” He pleads softly, defeatedly. “Hear me out, please.”

You wrestled between your options, half apathetic, half curious of what Keanu had to say. Unspoken words on the tip of his tongue, he mutely begs for you to relent, and if this is all it takes for him to leave you alone, leave you for good, then so be it.

“Ten minutes,” you muttered, low enough that he barely catches it at first. Crossing your arms against your chest, the gentle autumn wind rustling through the trees pierces the silent air as you observe Keanu staggering forward, a hand rubbing at the nape of his neck. 

“I’m sorry,” he begins, gazing at you with his searching brown eyes. “I-I know saying it a thousand times won’t make a difference, but I really am sorry. What I did before and after the accident was inexcusable and selfish. I hurt you, and I will never forgive myself that. Don’t expect you to do so, either. You probably hate my guts right now, and flying out here might be a mistake, but I needed to talk to you in person. To say goodbye one last time.”

Brushing his hair back, Keanu then pads over to the trunk of the car, and all you can do is wait for him to come back. It doesn’t take long, but he makes two trips to unload two boxes, setting each of them down in the space separating you two. He instantly notices the confusion etched across your features, burying his hands in his coat pocket with an exhale.

“Are those—”

“All the things you left behind,” Keanu finishes feebly. “Thought you would want them back.”

Stunned, a mirthless chuckle escapes your throat. “You didn’t have to do this. Those aren’t my things anyway.”

“But they are—”

“They’re not mine,” you cut him off with a weary gaze. “Keanu, I’ve said this before; I’m not the woman you fell in love with. Not anymore. Look, throughout those months we spent together, I tried to fit into this life everyone told me I had. A life that’s far from what I was used to. God, it feels like a dream being her. So confident, happy, and successful. Waking up from the coma, of course, I would want that. I had just gotten out of a terrible relationship which left me broken and unworthy of anything and anyone. Then you showed me the love I thought I didn’t deserve, and it kept me from realizing that it was all too good to be true.”

Eyes faltering to the ground, your fingers fumbled with the hem of your sweater, ultimately distracting yourself from the tears threatening to fall. “The truth is, I didn’t know you. You were, are, a stranger to me. You had done things behind my back, hid details that would have been a deal-breaker, but you didn’t care. I’ve thought about it a lot lately; would I have stayed if you told me from the very beginning. I wasn’t sure if I was madder at you kissing someone else, knowing how much it would hurt me, or the fact that you lied to fix this—us.”

There is a moment of silence that weighs over everything. The wind stops blowing; the leaves are motionless. Time seems to slow around you and Keanu as he waits for your next words. Words that you are still searching for since you hadn’t prepared to voice those thoughts out loud. They all came rushing, flooding like a broken dam, too overwhelming to keep at bay. 

“Which one is it?” Keanu probes delicately, equally afraid of which answer you’re going to give.

“Neither,” you revealed, surprisingly. “I’m angrier at myself for falling too fast; for being the naive little girl who let herself be fooled, who refused to listen to her instincts even though she knew they were usually right.”

You see Keanu open his mouth to speak, but you weren’t done. “I always believed this accident was a curse. It erased years worth of memories that, at this point, I’ll never get back. But now, I see the good that came out of it. Our fights, our arguments, they were all signs that our relationship was falling apart, but I couldn’t let go of it—of you. I held onto us thinking the bad will just phase out eventually when in reality, I couldn’t bear giving up on you and this life we shared.”

Another pause. “Huh, funny. Looking at it, the same thing happened all over again.”

With that said, you felt relieved, somewhat lighter. Despite previous inclinations, you didn’t shout or yell at Keanu. Nor did you discuss to the fullest extent of the suffering you’ve endured. Strangely, it was nearly therapeutic admitting all of that to him, to yourself. For months, you had been unable to let go and accept the truth, allowing fear and doubt to control your actions. 

But that was then, and this is now. 

And now, it was time for you to be free.

“Guess this is it,” Keanu sighs dejectedly. He didn’t come here to win you back, knowing there’s nothing that he could do or say to repair the damage. Like you, he’s letting go, letting this be the closure he needs, and you need as well. “I guess this is goodbye.”

“Yeah,” you agreed quietly, “Guess this is goodbye.”

Before you could leave his sight to spare Keanu the awkwardness, he holds up a finger, signaling you to wait a second. Swiftly, he goes to retrieve something that’s lying on the front seat, something that you’ve spent countless hours flipping through. He then reluctantly passes it over to you, and you’re unsure what to do with it.

“Your pictures,” he points out, though you were already aware. “I’m not trying to be an asshole or anything by giving this, but this book is yours. Keep it, burn it, do whatever seems right to you. But I want you to know, to remember, that I did love you. I still do, and these photos are proof of it, even if you can’t bring yourself to believe that I’m telling the truth. You deserve love and to be loved, Y/N. More than anything in the universe. I fucked up my chance to be the one to tell you that every day, but it doesn’t mean the next person you fall for will.”

“Ke…” your voice suddenly breaks with emotion, uncertain of what to add after his statement. It’s because you still love him. No matter how much it hurts, you’re still in love with him, your mother’s earlier words echo in your mind, ringing true in your heart. Even after everything, a piece of you still loved Keanu, and saying goodbye to him more painful than you anticipated.

As you stand frozen, Keanu inches nearer until he’s by your feet, the palm of his hand coming to rest on your cheek. He strokes your face with a tender caress before tilting your chin upwards to meet his gaze, brushing his thumb along your lower lip gently. You allow him to have this moment, to hold you and study you for a final time, commit you to memory as this would be the last. 

Eyes fluttering shut, you feel him press a soft kiss on your forehead, the warmth of it immediately spreading throughout your body before he slowly pulls away.

“Take care of yourself, Y/N,” Keanu says, opening the driver’s side door of his rental. You look at each other once more and see the subtle, hopeful smile he shoots your way. “And don’t be afraid to love again.”

You watch as he starts driving away, opting to wait until the car is finally out of view before releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

In your hands is a keepsake of your memories. A collection of captured moments that you had cherished so dearly. But things are different now; mistakes were made, words were said, people have grown apart. You found no reason to linger in the past when there’s nothing left to salvage. 

Nothing left to do but heal.

The warmth of Keanu’s kiss eventually disappears, the world around you unpausing, continuing as it was before. You stay standing in place, glancing back and forth between the book you clutched on tightly and the boxes laying on the ground. 

Yet in the quietude, the wind still blows. The leaves still fall, and the earth still spins.

Time resumes, bit by bit; passing for life to move forward— 

For you to move on.

Part 13

Tags: @penwieldingdreamer​ @fanficsrusz​ @toomanystoriessolittletime​ @awessomness @meetmeinthematinee​ @ringa-starr​ @ficsnroses​ @iworshipkeanureeves​ @keandrews​ @greenmanalishi​ @feminine-machinegun​ @thehumanistsdiary​ @lilyette​​ @rdjloverxxx @flaminasteroid @danceoftwowolves @ravenpuff02 @wheretheriversrunintothesea​​ @breakthenight​​ @allie1804-fan​​ @partypoison00​​

[emilyoftheshadows]

Person A catches a bus home everyday, but today, they're so exhausted that they fall asleep, suddely they feel a light tap on their shoulder and open their eyes to see a cute guy/gal/person smiling at them. "Sorry to wake you, bit this is your stop, i hope you slept well"

So, this is the first piece I have written and posted here! This is a fluffy drabble loosely based on the prompt above as well as some tik tok ideas i've seen. I hope you enjoy and don't judge too hard :)

~~~~~~

Aelin never knew that she could feel such a wide range of emotions in such a short amount of time. The hectic events she had endured earlier in her day had left her drained and in dire need of sleep.

She started out her mornings as usual - brewing her coffee with the help of an overly excited Fleetfoot. On the subway ride to work, coffee in hand, she explicitly remembered checking her emails for any important notices regarding her job. As an advertising agent, she dealt with multiple clients at one time. With her meticulously organized calendar and the help of her overworked assistant Marion, she was usually able to keep everything in check. Today was not one of those days.

As she entered her office, Marion greeted her with her tablet in hand- Aelin’s schedule color coded, labeled and sorted by hour.

 “Good morning Ms. Galathynius, ready to hear your schedule for today?” Aelin nodded, sipping her coffee as Marion listed her client meetings for the upcoming day. As they entered her office, Aelin paused.

“Marion, could you please repeat that first meeting  again?”

“The Havilliard Scotch pitch at 12?” And that was when Aelin knew she was fucked. This pitch was meant for a well known drinking company in New York, fast on the come up. Havilliard Sr. was known to be picky about his branding, scrutinizing most agencies that had helped him before. She had barely gotten this client, practically begging Nehemia for the job. As she worked the branding, she had become worried about the content she was producing.

She was so worried about this pitch, that she had taken her laptop home last night in hopes of triple checking her work for mistakes and to fine tune some details. And that's where her laptop was at that moment. At her apartment, across town, sitting on her desk, collecting dust. Her mind raced at how to solve her predicament. The subway ride to and from her apartment was too long of a trip to make before the meeting and, like an amateur, she hadn’t saved her files anywhere else but her laptop. She was completely fucked. 

Marion stood in the doorway, confused on what was going on in Aelin’s head. Aelin decided to finally release herself from her stupor. “Marion, could you please go find Aedion for me? And tell him it’s an emergency.”

With a determined look on her face, her assistant went as fast as her short legs could carry her to Aedion’s office on the adjacent part of the building floor she was on. Within minutes, Aedion was standing at her door, panting like he had just sprinted the fastest race of his life. The good thing about having her overbearing cousin work with her, is that she knew that in any problem he would help in an instant. And this was one hell of a fucking problem.

“What happened Aelin? Are you okay? Were you hurt? Do you need an ambulance?”

“You idiot I am physically fine, but still screwed and I need your help.” Aedion released the first breath Aelin had seen him take since entering her office.

“You know, when Marion power walked into my office saying you had an EMERGENCY and she didn’t know what was wrong with you, I definitely thought you would be passed out on your floor with blood on your face. But, you know, thanks for the heart attack. Really woke me up this morning.” 

Aelin rolled her eyes at him. He was more dramatic than her, and that spoke volumes in itself. 

“Aedion, please it really is an emergency. I have the big pitch for the Havilliard Scotch today and I left my laptop with the presentation at my apartment.” Aedion’s eyes widened in surprise. He knew that Aelin had been obsessed about this pitch and that mistakes like this only happened to her once in a blue moon. Aelin saw understanding dawn on his face and took that as a sign to continue.

“Now, I know a while back I sent you the rough drafts of the branding from when I first got the pitch. Is there any chance that you have the email or presentation saved still? If I have the basis of the presentation, I have an hour to build on it and hopefully fix this.”

Aedion’s face fell at the request. “We can go look, but you know I’m not the best at organizing my files Ace. It could be anywhere on my computer or not at all.” With those reaffirming words, Aelin and Aedion walked at a brisk pace back to his office. Combing through Aedion’s computer was an agonizing process. There were files saved from years ago that should’ve been deleted, and backtracking through all the contents of his computer made Aelin want to stab her eyes out. But it was all worth it, because hidden in the depths of this man’s terribly organized computer was the presentation. With a quick click of a button, she emailed the document to herself. She gave a half ass hug to Aedion, then practically ran to her office to start reworking her pitch on the computer there.

--

Aelin believed it was pure adrenaline that enabled her to finish her pitch in time for the Havilliard meeting. With a strong foundation laid out before her from her first draft, she had constructed almost her exact pitch that was left at home. Aelin waited for the Havilliards in the boardroom, smoothing out her clothes as she paced at the front. Far too soon, Marion escorted Havilliard Sr., Dorian Havilliard, and their close friend and partner Chaol Westfall into the room for her presentation. The three men had sat down in silence with no introduction, except for a small encouraging smile from the younger Havilliard. Taking that as her sign to start, Aelin cleared her throat.

“Hello gentlemen, today I want to present to you the future of Havilliard Scotch…”

---

As the men had exited the room single file, Aelin finally allowed herself to relax. That had felt like the longest pitch of her life. Going into the meeting, she had known the men were notorious for being extremely serious and critical of their agents. What she had not expected was the whispered words between the men after she had finished her presentation. As she looked on, Dorian Havilliard had finally broken away from their circle to address her.

“Miss Galathynius, thank you for your time. We will get back to you shortly about our decision to run with this branding or not.” With a quick nod and gesture to his companions, the trio had stood up and left the room. She was utterly shocked. Aelin had poured her sweat and tears into this pitch, quite literally, and they had just thanked her and left. No critiques, no opinions, no nothing. 

Quite honestly, Aelin was exhausted. She had spent most of her brain power reworking that pitch in that 45 minutes before that meeting and she had nothing left to give today. Yet, she still had a full schedule left to woo clients and work on her other projects. By the time Aelin trudged back to the subway, she was ready for a nice dinner at home followed by a restorative night of sleep with Fleetfoot at her side. 

Now, as she entered the subway, she immediately noticed the mystery man sitting down a few feet away from her. The man was moderately built, with muscles that were outlined by the fabric of his long sleeve t-shirt. His style was simple with a pair of nice jeans and Doc Marten boots, but that just allowed one's focus to settle on the beautiful creation that was his face. Mystery man had a strong jawline, lined with a bit of stubble and scruff. His eyes were a beautiful shade of green like none that she had seen before, his head topped with luscious silver hair. As the subway started, Mystery Man continued to sketch drawings into his book. Now, Aelin was never one to back  down from an opportunity to flirt with one of the most attractive men she had ever seen. She was a single woman in a big city, why the hell not. But her day had taken a toll on her, and she just didn’t know if this was the right time or place. So, she opted to put in her headphones as she waited for her stop, listening to relaxing music to calm her anxieties regarding the failed Havilliard pitch. 

 Seeing that her stop was next, Aelin rose from her seat to wait in line for the doors to open. As she waited, she felt a light tap on her shoulder. Low and behold, there was the Mystery Man standing next to her with a piece of paper in hand. As she pulled her headphone out, the man silently handed her the paper. Looking down, she saw a pencil sketch of herself on the subway. The drawing was beautifully done with bold lines and harsh shading, contrasted by highlights created from the fluorescent lights of the subway. Her eyes welled up, immediately grateful for this thoughtful gift after such a horrible day. The Mystery Man saw her emotions, startled to see tears welling up in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on your privacy. I just… I like to draw and when I saw you… I mean, it’s just you’re so stunning..” The man’s face flushed red as he tried to justify his beautiful art. Aelin laughed out loud for the first time today at his misunderstanding of her swell of emotions. 

“Oh no, these are just tears of..uhmm.. happiness? I guess…” She started to flush at her own awkwardness, trying to explain her emotions this time.

“I just had a really rough day and feel like shit. But this drawing is beautiful and I really am grateful that such a talented artist like yourself chose me as your muse today.” Aelin watched as the Mystery Man reacted to such a lavish compliment, somehow developing an even deeper blush with a shy smile . Gaining confidence from his reaction, she decided to make her move before she exited for her upcoming stop. 

“Hey, Mystery Man, why don’t I give you my number? Seeing that I am your muse and all, I would really like to learn more about your art.” It was a subpar pickup line at best, but hey, she had a long day and for the circumstance she thought it good enough. The man gave a deep timbered laugh at her pickup line, clearly enjoying their conversation now. 

“I think I might be one step ahead of you actually. Flip the drawing over.” As she flipped the paper, she saw a messy scrawl with the name Rowan, and what she could only assume was his number. The sight of these two things brought her complete giddiness. Giddiness that made you want to jump in the air and pump your fist because you're so excited. She looked up at Rowan, smirking as she tucked the piece of paper into her purse.

As the subway doors opened and they were pushed apart by bypassers, she turned around one last time to look at the man who had brightened her day beyond belief. She winked at Rowan as she walked away, not missing the wide smile he gave in return as the subway doors closed and continued on to the next stop.

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Lovebug (8/12)

Summary:  

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Notes: Feedback is very much appreciated :D

Levi put a hard deadline for Wednesday

“Wednesday” he said it again because he couldn’t be too certain how he said it the first time. He was conscious if he were too stiff, it might almost seem awkward. If he were too relaxed, maybe the urgency wouldn’t get across.

The challenge was finding the balance and when his team nodded, their faces unchanging, he realized it had been an easy task. They had gone through that same pattern before, especially before a large-scale quality assurance test, a recalibration of the application.

And the one on Monday was much larger, covering not just fifty volunteers, maybe even hundreds. When it was Zeke’s own connections that had managed to get that many volunteers, they couldn’t afford to delay it.

Levi cleared his throat and continued. “All fixes should be completed by Wednesday. All QA and regression tests by Friday,” Levi added. “The large scale QA test will be happening on Monday. No negotiations. No chances of rescheduling. ”

Aside from the number of volunteers, that QA test should not be anything different. Nothing much changed except perhaps the fact that Levi was in a constant state of compartmentalizing. He was working partly with outsourced labor to complete the code and to make sure someone was testing their new application. He was also working with his own team to make sure they were still addressing issues and realising fixes for the love alarm.

He liked the busy-ness, the need to be constantly thinking about work. Sometimes though, there were more distracting prospects that forced their way into his limited brainspace. And for some reason, his brain space was so willing to accommodate it.

More specifically, to accommodate her. Well, he had no choice anyway. After all, it was her application. It was his brain child but by extension, it was her and Zeke’s property.

He was constantly in a state of stress and Hange’s presence only made things more stressful. But somehow, his brain demanded he forced that extra piece of information, that piece of responsibility, that piece of Hange somewhere in his brain.

Just like he couldn’t say no to Zeke and Hange, he couldn’t say no to the manifestations of his own mind.

She never gave him a chance to say no. After all, she liked working in his office. She had made herself at home on the desk next to him and everyday he was reminded of that extra compartment his brain had created just for him.

All he had to do was enter the room and enjoy the view of her hunched over her laptop like she always was.

First thing in the morning, she was there. After meetings and standups with his team, he would go back to his office like always, and she was there.

That time, all test devices were lined on the desk, the whiteboard that only that morning had been covered with scribbles was replaced with something a little more coherent.

“You’re testing?” Levi sat next to her, counting ten devices before deciding it would be a waste of time to count further. He looked back up at her.

Hange nodded. “You updated the build last Friday right?”

“Just some fixes,” Levi said. The fixes came slowly, with more data being added, with the algorithm being tested here and there. It was still far from perfect though. He scanned the whiteboard just to get an inkling of her own progress. “How many pseudo emails do you have?” He could have counted it himself but once again, he gave up after ten.

“Enough to test on this many devices,” Hange said.

He read them out loud, taking note of the checkmarks..

Wingsoffreedom123

Wingsoffreedom213

Wingsoffreedom231

Wingsoffreedom321

Wingsoffreedom312

Wingsoffreedom132

“Creative,” Levi commented.

“Look, I just need a bunch of emails that are easy to remember so might as well stick to the same combination,” Hange said. “ You get it, Humanity’s strongest?”

Levi cringed inwardly. He should really go around changing that name. “Do you actually use those emails?” He asked.

“Sometimes, when applying for free trials, when making more than one account in websites.” Hange said. “I like keeping my own consumption patterns not connected to ‘Hange Zoe,’ if you know what I mean.”

“At least you’re able to make use of those emails for testing.” Levi pulled his chair a little closer to her and looked over her shoulder. “Is it working better?”

“It rings,” Hange said. “The last five times I tested, they said I was happy.” She chose that moment to click ‘activate’ on the next alarm. As expected, it rang again, the words ‘happy” flashed in the middle of the screen with an ugly smiley face in Arial font right under it.

It was a blatantly horrible sign that maybe they had spent a little too much time on the back end. Front end and user interface could be fixed a little later anyway, Levi reminded himself. He brought out his own test device and pressed the activate button.

The word ‘happy’ flashed across the screen. “Looks like they fixed a lot of the kinks,” Levi said.

“Are you happy?” Hange asked.

Those types of questions were the ones that had him a little more self aware. He didn’t answer immediately, instead, he left his natural instincts speak for themselves. A smile threatened to creep up his lips overwhelming the small part of him that wanted to push it down into something more subtle.

“Levi, are you happy?” Hange pressed, a hint of a laugh in her voice.

He was. He couldn't tell exactly why. Overall, it had seemed much easier, to just let the smile climb up his face so he gave it facility, freedom to move.

And soon, he didn’t regret it. Maybe because his own smile had been the reason Hange’s eyes got bigger before her features softened into something comfortable within a few seconds.

Before Levi could appreciate them a little more, her eyes suddenly narrowed, as if studying him. He noted all of it in her expression, the triumph, the victory lap in her expression, and the sneer particularly evident in her eyes.

He didn’t want her to win that little game they had for themselves. So he turned back, allowing time for the smile to fall into something less embarrassing. “Well, if the application says I’m happy, maybe I am.” He stood up again, holding his laptop to his side. “I’m going out for a break.”

***

Summer was ending soon.

And for Levi, the end was usually accompanied by the relief that he wouldn’t have to brave public transportation under the sweltering heat while dealing with an office dress code.

Strangely, he also found himself a little melancholic as he noted that red leaves were starting to sprout more frequently among the branches. He considered it almost an obligation to take a walk twice or thrice a week, especially during those last few weeks.

He would sit on one of the benches by the garden. To save time, he would bring his laptop every single time and he would always allow himself short in-betweens to enjoy his surroundings after long minutes of staring at the screen.

Like always, the trees were above him and the flowers were in front of him. When he looked down, he even enjoyed the grass and the cobblestone lined paths.

“You take the same route every time.”

Levi looked up, an instinctive reaction to that very familiar, almost intimate voice. “You followed me?”

“What if I wanted to take a walk too?” Hange asked.

“You're welcome to take a walk. I’m just gonna do some work here before going back inside,” Levi said. He looked back at the screen in front of him, trying to find something to make progress with as he monitored the workflow tracker.

Nothing much had changed or was expected to change, his own staff was probably on lunch break. He trusted them enough to be certain they would get most of their work done by Wednesday. And consequently, he was left with nothing much else to do but maybe take a lunch break too.

Hange sat right next to him on the bench and Levi pulled away, far enough to put a good few inches between them. “You’re going out more often now,” Hange said.

“I noticed I’ve been spending too much time indoors. I never really got to enjoy summer for what it was. We only get it three months a year.”

Hange gave him a knowing look. “And you only noticed it now? After living in this city your whole life?” She asked. “You’ve lived here your whole life right?”

“Yeah,” Levi said.

Hange shrugged. “You just never struck me as the type to enjoy weather, or nature in general. Back in the golf course, back in the ocean, you didn’t look like you wanted to be there,” she noted.

“Maybe it’s a recent thing,” Levi said. He kept it vague, not wanting to probe any complex topics when he was grappling with more important complex things.

Hange though, was a black hole of knowledge, a bundle overflowing with curiosity. “What makes it pretty? Why do you like taking walks?”

“Do we have to have a reason?”

“Well ever since I started to work closely with you, I started to notice something too,” Hange said. “You seem happier.”

“Maybe because Zeke is always busy.”

Hange snorted. “You really hate him don’t you?” She leaned a little closer. “And aren’t you at all nervous admitting it to me?” An overly playful demeanor accompanied such intimidating words. It was more laughable than terrifying.

Levi shook his head, unfazed. “I trust you wouldn’t tell him.”

“I wouldn’t,” she admitted. “I don’t blame you though.” She only had to give him an almost pitied look for him to read her mind.

He articulated it for her. “I never really recovered from those two all-nighters cramming an application.” That had been more than three months ago but the memory still burned as a faint memory of excruciating exhaustion and an unpleasant caffeine buzz that took weeks to brush off.

“You managed to impress the hospital admin at least. And we got the funds,” Hange said.

Does that make Zeke any more of an insufferable person? He had hoped to ask that with the face he gave Hange then, one eyebrow raised. If it didn’t send the message, he could easily say it out loud. That one pleasantry Zeke afforded him though that day in front of the convenience store echoed in his head. Even just coming up with an insult sent a wave of guilt through him.

A wave of guilt I don’t need to feel. Levi reminded himself, willing to recall the other instances the blond had been abrasive. Zeke was either a master manipulator or misunderstood. He was a billionaire though, so Levi decided to err on the side of ‘manipulator.’

“The funds go to the company, to the outsourcing activities and to server space,” Levi corrected.

“Don’t you have company shares?” Hange asked.

“A stock option,” Levi clarified. “Something I chose not to take. I’d rather get my money as is. I don’t trust myself to grow something of that much value.” He kept his answers vague, since he never did read the contract closely anyway, it was Erwin who went through the benefits with him.

“Well everyone else in the company who runs on stock options seems to trust you. Zeke’s own investment is riding on your own ability to make a good product...” My PhD dreams are riding on your product. Hange didn’t say that last part out loud but Levi heard it loud and clear.

“Well this pseudo love alarm project, it’s still far from perfect.” For emphasis, he opened up the new project entitled ‘emotion alarm project’ on his dashboard and slipped the laptop screen over to Hange. “Thirty percent done. We barely fixed the interface, just getting the required testing and data done is taking up a lot of resources.”

“I know that and I expected it,” Hange said. “You know, a PhD sometimes takes decades to complete and I’m ready to take that much time.”

“I just wanna manage your expectations. Besides, something about the testing still bothers me.”

“What about it?”

“Remember the first night I made the application?” He stifled a wince at the painful memory. “It didn’t ring… until you came in.”

“Maybe it was a bug?” Hange suggested. “It shouldn’t be too much of an issue right? Since you made a lot of improvements after.”

“I did,” Levi said.

“And it never happened again with the later builds.”

“It doesn’t but it works too much like the love alarm. Do you notice, it always rings when we’re nearby?”

“When we’ve already loaded millions worth of data points. When we’ve overseen that much testing with other people. I don’t think you have to think too hard about it. We just keep improving the application right? Same as the love alarm,” Hange explained.

“Maybe I’m just being cynical. It doesn’t work once and I can never trust it again,” Levi muttered as he scrolled through the tasks for the next release for the upteenth time since a while ago.

“I guess that’s what happens when you’re the one who came up with the project. You can never trust your own abilities to develop?"

"Or because I worked on it, at three in the morning, I tested it. I know how many shortcuts I took with it…" Levi trailed off as he started to focus a little more on the numbers, the titles on the task trackers.

"You know they did the research, the testing, if it works for them, if they have a good success rate, then maybe it works for us too? Maybe the app is right, we're happy when we’re next to each other. Sometimes we’re sad when we’re next to each other and sometimes we're angry. If this application is detecting moods like this… similarly to the love alarm, maybe it means we could--- "

"Get along?" Levi finished it for her. There were only so many things that code could mean anyway.

"Get along.... Or to get to know each other more." Hange said, her voice softer than a second ago. The smile took longer to leave her lips.

Hange though had always been good at composing herself but Levi had months to figure out patterns and trends in the way she navigated the more sensitive topics. He couldn't help but notice the heavy tension, even under the light summer breeze.

Those moments happened too often that Levi had prepared an escape route every time. Business talk. And they had a lot to talk about. "Hange, I wanna ask something about the front end," Levi scrolled back up, towards the top of the task trackers. Dealing with front end was a mammoth task, rifed with two many sub tasks but it was definitely one of the last priorities, if it was even a priority. Levi wasn’t the type to particularly mind releasing an application with a white background and an interface that used the very underwhelming Arial font.

But it was Hange and Zeke’s application.

"Ask away," Hange said.

It came easily after that. The ticket on his workflow tracker had an inkling of a script to follow. "What colors would you associate with emotions?" He asked.

"What?" Hange furrowed her brows.

Levi cleared his throat. Nevermind, it wasn't easy to come up with the question without a little more expounding. "Like would you say red is anger? Blue is sadness? Yellow is happiness?"

"Wait? Why?" Hange asked again. Her lips were curled up just a little higher.

"I'm thinking of the front end of the application. What colors do you see for each emotion?"

"Yellow for happiness," Hange answered easily.

"Not orange?" Levi challenged. He had opened up the task and started to take notes.

"Orange is way too angry for me."

"Red seems much angrier," Levi said

"Red is anger definitely but I'm not seeing bright red, I'm seeing something like orange."

Levi opened up a color wheel. " So this red?" Levi asked.

"No, bright reddish orange," Hange corrected. It may have been a coincidence or just a trick of convenience but a red leaf had fallen on her lap at that moment. Hange picked it up, and twirled it and held it in front of Levi like a token.

“So... autumn red?” Levi asked.

Hange dropped the leaf on his lap. “I guess.” She raised her eyebrow. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

Was he giving her a strange look? His mind sometimes formed opinions as he spoke and Hange had always been receptive anyway so he verbalized it, just for her. “When I’m angry, I see red,” Levi admitted.

“I haven't felt really angry in a while, so I wouldn’t know,” Hange said. “Maybe it changed.”

“Sadness?” Levi asked.

Hange turned to him questioningly. “Tell me yours first.”

“Grey,” Levi said automatically.

“Blue,” Hange said, as if it were the truest fact in the world.

A fact Levi was compelled to question. “Why blue?”

“Why not blue?”

“Blue doesn’t seem sad….”

“Why not?” Hange pressed.

“It seems…” Levi started, only realizing seconds later, he was unable to come up with the right words.

“Too nice?” Hange suggested.

“It’s a nice color. It makes me feel good just looking at it.” It was a pathetic response. With such a complex thought, to even force out of his mouth, he had to channel his inner child, through the most child-like attempts at articulation.

“Okay, I know it doesn’t feel good to be sad but.. don’t you think sadness is a beautiful feeling?” Hange asked.

“No.” It should have been a natural answer. Somehow, Levi felt like there was something else worth listening to.

Hange saw reason to continue at least. “You wouldn’t be feeling sad, if you never felt happy in the first place, if you’ve never felt desire or love. There are feelings much worse than being sad for sure.”

“Like what?”

“Not feeling at all maybe?” Hange surmised. “So maybe the strongest feelings, whether good or bad, are still nice… maybe something worth indulging.”

And it was turning into a philosophy lesson. How many hours had he wasted listening to Hange prattle on about emotions and concepts of love? They weren’t hours wasted for sure, but they did leave him feeling just a little sad at times. Once again, he went back to business talk. Levi looked back at his workflow tracker. “So ‘blue sad, yellow happy, red angry…”

“Do you really think sadness is grey?” Hange asked.

Levi looked up from his laptop and straight towards Hange. "Look, I don't think much about what color my emotions are…” He trailed off. He could have said more maybe. Speaking while reflecting turned out to be a daunting task at that moment.

Maybe sadness was grey. That had seemed like the most natural conclusion at first. He focused for a little longer on the view in front of him, the view of Hange and behind her the open grounds that made way for blue sky and the blue burned into his eyes, enough to make him feel something in his chest then down to his stomach. Before he knew it, he started to entertain Hange’s own idea.

When Hange looked back at him, the open sky behind her, he felt stinging at the back of his eyes, he let his face fall.

The color overall had been burning at first. The more he stared, the more he noticed its more lasting qualities. It turned out blue wasn’t burning, it was subdued, mild. At the same time, the clear endless shade of blue in the sky behind her did wonders to accentuate her features. Enough of a reminder to leave another twinge in his chest, that time it was slightly painful.

A twinge of sadness. Emotions may be difficult to comprehend but whatever clarity that washed over him then had been enough of a motivator to speak up. “I think you’re right, sadness is blue,” he said. A beautiful blue.

He found himself searching for the prettiest shades on the color wheel, looking back up at the sky, then to the yellow streaks from the sun that hit the pavement. He then turned his head towards the garden where red roses grew. From a distance, from above, they were supposed to form a heart.

“Yeah, red and yellow too. Red hurts, it’s glaring, Sometimes yellow is too bright but all together, they make the garden beautiful. Like this courtyard,” Hange said. She stretched her legs out onto the stony path just in front of the bench and shifted her weight to the palms of her hands.

“Yeah, it is.” Levi nodded.

“It’s colorful,” Hange said. “Bright reds, bright greens, bright blues, bright yellows. They’ll all only be here together until the end of summer.” She wrapped her arms around herself, a wistful smile on her face.

“You like summer?” Levi asked. “It’s fucking hot.”

“I like summer and spring. What can I say? I like seasons with a lot more variety of color,” she answered. “ I always get a little sad when summer ends. Surprisingly though, I’m sadder than usual about this summer ending.”

“Why?”

Hange shrugged. “I can’t even explain it for myself. It’s ridiculous that I’m this sad about summer ending. I usually get like this when I’m out of the city but I haven’t even been out in the countryside in a while but somehow, I’m already imaging the larger, wider landscapes up north. I’m imagining how quickly the trees go bald… Green then red then blue. And how quickly skies turn from blue to just a constant gray and when the lakes just freeze over, turning from blue to a more of black… It’s sad to imagine.”

“I can imagine it,” Levi said. He didn’t leave the city often since there wasn’t much spare funds to work with. He was capable of empathizing though, after all the twinge of sadness remained and it had been surprisingly easy to channel it elsewhere.

“There are places up north that have the most beautiful springs and summers but when the leaves change… everything dies much more quickly.” Hange lowered her head.

“Maybe one day, I’ll check it out,” Levi said. He found himself picturing the logistics of a trip already. Having never used his leaves, having built up disposable income through a lack of drive to even form a life outside work, he realized he did have leeway to indulge just a bit. Somehow, Hange’s own thoughts were enough to inspire.

“You haven’t been up north?” Hange gaped.

“I didn’t have much money growing up and there’s no reason to.”

“I should take you up north. You know, the gardens up there, the rolling hillsides. They remind me of Pemberley,” Hange said.

“Pemberley?”

“Pemberley! Mister Darcy’s estate.”

Levi groaned inward. That book again.

“Elizabeth visited towards the end of the book and there are a bunch of old houses around there and when I would walk on the fields, I like to pretend I’m in the book.”

“Relive your rags to riches fantasy?” Levi asked bitterly.

Hange pouted. “It’s not just that. Besides, I wasn’t poor, you know. My parents managed to pay tuition to a good college with no debt.”

Not as rich as Zeke definitely. The banter might just get out of control so Levi went with a conservative digression. “Maybe I’ll go there one weekend, up north before summer really ends.”

“Maybe, I’ll take you there myself,” She said, an excited grin on her face. “Maybe after this weekend or next year if we’re too late. I told Zeke about how I was feeling lately, so for my birthday, he promised he’ll take me up north so we’re going this weekend.”

Levi choked. “Wait, birthday? When’s your birthday?” It turned out to be a burning question, a small fact Levi felt obligated to know. So the answer couldn’t have come any slower.

When Hange opened her mouth ready to speak, the universe decided for them that it definitely could come a little later. His phone rang, breaking that brief silence, prolonging the painful anticipation.

Petra Ral. For some reason, he expected the worst when any of his subordinates called. He answered the phone. “Petra, is everything okay?”

“Sorry about calling. I tried texting you but you weren’t replying.” Petra went straight to the point soon after that. “Some of the members of the other project offered to help out with testing. Do we have enough phones?”

They did have enough test devices, the pile on Hange’s desk was enough proof of that. “Yes we do,” Levi said. They were all in his office. He turned to Hange questioningly. It was her blank face that reminded him, they’d have to look through the phones themselves to see what devices they could wipe.

“I’ll meet you by the office,” Levi said. “Hange and I are going back now.”

He hung up the phone and turned to Hange. “Petra is gonna borrow some of the test devices. You’re okay with that?”

“Sure, I’ll help you wipe them,” Hange said. “Are we going back now?” She seemed hesitant, a closer look and Levi could see a hint of disappointment.

He closed his laptop. “We have to get back to work right?”

“You never even stopped working,” Hange accused.

“I stopped long enough to listen to you ramble on about that damned book and your nice vacations.”

Hange walked on, seeming deep in thought. “Hey Levi… What do you think of Petra?” It was an abrupt digression.

“What about Petra?”

“Have you ever considered dating her?”

Levi stifled a choke, letting it out as a peaceful clearing of the throat. “Why are you asking that?”

Hange shrugged, as she walked ahead. . “Nothing, she seems like a nice person and she seems to like you… Besides, she rings your alarm.” She looked back at him, a playful grin on her face.

Levi sighed. That wasn’t a question he would have liked to broach.

“Well?” Hange pressed.

But maybe he could give some vague answer in exchange for some information. “I’ll tell you. If you tell me something."

"Tell you what?"

"What are your plans for your birthday?”

***

Levi was tricked, treated, bamboozled. Hange had a way with words, a way of just pushing the right buttons. It could have been that or it could have been a series of convenient circumstances and conversation topics that had Levi there, at the front of the mall after work with Petra right next to him.

On the bright side, he had Hange’s birthdate, her plans for that Friday all the way until the weekend. That was enough to satisfy his own curiosity. Over time though he realized, that was all it did.

Was it worth it?

Back when he and Hange had been discussing it, it seemed like a good exchange, she satisfied his curiosity, he satisfied hers. Hange had given her due information. In exchange, she received information on Petra, the long QAs, her alarm ringing, the amount of effort Petra put into her job and just the occasional present that made their way to his desk.

While Hange’s own information went so far as to give the name of the restaurant, the time and the route of their roadtrip, Levi’s own information evolved into something else. Before he even knew it, Hange had created a new agenda of her own.

Your love alarm would ring with Petra right?

It did. Of course, in front of the mall, surrounded by other people wasn’t the best place to test it. There was no reason to either. Ever since Petra joined them more than a year back, the love alarm had always rang and Petra had enough professionalism, enough of a handle on her own feelings to mark it as ‘accurate.’

Admirable? Definitely. Date worthy? Did he ever consider dating her long enough to deem her date worthy? ‘Maybe not’ to both questions.

Have you ever considered dating Petra?  Hange brought up that question during their conversation and Levi felt almost guilty for the straight up ‘no,’ and the shallow ‘she’s too young for my taste’ reason.

She could have been too young. Still, Hange seemed more like a counselor for that exchange and she made some good points.

Assuming the love alarm didn’t have a bug, and the reading was accurate… Hange first set her premise.

The premise could have been accurate. No, it definitely was. Petra’s own approach towards him only served to extinguish any doubts.

Levi and Petra settled for an early dinner at some restaurant towards the end of the mall. Not for the food, nor for the pricing but for the convenience of being able to sit down after the twenty minute walk and a long day up on their feet back in the office.

And Petra had been excited to sit down in front of him. She rushed ahead and slipped into the booth, even before Levi had slipped himself into the small gap between table and chair. He allowed himself enough focus to scan through the menu and digest the names of the dishes at least. He hadn't bothered to even spare a good look at the board outside nor what the hell the other customers were eating and thus, he was excruciatingly slow.

On top of that, he was exhausted from a day of work and most days, he wouldn’t have bothered to go on a date, not with a colleague at that.

It’s not a date. Levi reminded himself. He shouldn’t be dating subordinates. That was another source of stress at that moment.

A few times Levi looked up at the menu, making some ingenious excuse about how he couldn’t decide and how he needed some blank space to help clear his mind before he tried to decide again. Every single time he looked up, he had to internally make an excuse because Petra was staring right at him.

“Have you decided what you want to get?” Petra asked, her voice was a song. She propped her elbows on the table, a rude gesture in most places. She managed to subdue rudeness by propping her chin on top, a look of seemingly genuine interest in her face.

Seemingly. Who the hell was he kidding, she probably was genuine about it. If it wasn’t his own instinct that could be relied on, he could at least trust the love alarm that had rung with no fail since she joined the company in the first place.

“I’ll get the fried chicken meal.” Levi didn’t particularly like fried chicken. He had been a little too self conscious of how long he had stared at her and back at the menu, how long the awkward silence between them lasted and he soon realized, he had to order quickly, even if he didn’t know yet what else he was missing.

“You wanna get tea? We could share a pot,” Petra suggested as she put down her own menu.

Levi could have finished a pot on his own. He wasn’t telling her that though, especially not right after too many close encounters with what could have been inappropriate. “Sure.” Levi nodded a little faster, hoping that was enough to feign excitement.

The waiter came and went with the menus on hand and Petra started to ask questions, questions that were invasive enough that Levi had a hard time thinking two things at once.

They weren’t too personal. In fact, they weren’t about him anyway. Levi started to figure that for himself when he got his bearings. “What about Hange?” Levi asked. He was stalling, finding ways to untangle his hairball of thoughts.

“You were asking me right? About any advice on what to give Hange for her birthday?” Petra asked.

“Yes, I did.” Why did he forget?

Assuming the love alarm didn’t have a bug, and the reading was accurate, that means this ‘love’ between me and Zeke is one sided.

“Well, we could check out a few shops nearby. You could buy her something that could help her with organization. Diaries, bookmarks, pencil cases, wallets…” The list went on and the contents had started to become unbearably boring. Really, would Hange have enjoyed those?

But I don’t think it’s one sided. Love is a choice right? I can choose to love him. So if you and Petra---

Me and Petra. There were too many things wrong with it, a boss and a direct report, a conflict of interest.

But she seems genuine. She seems like a good person. And maybe she could be worth pursuing.

She’s my direct report. He argued then.

But if you decide to pursue a relationship, you can always just reshuffle, right?

Petra continued to talk. “Does she like tea? We could give her a tea bag. The one I bought you last Christmas… it took me months to find it…” She brought out her phone and started to scroll, seeming too deep in thought. She furrowed her brows and bit her lip, as if the extra effort hurt..

An unnecessarily vigorous effort over a simple request from him. Guilt was an unwelcome feeling but it was also incredibly tenacious, like a cockroach. His mind was becoming more receptive to painful speculation as he watched Petra grapple over her choices, and he wasn’t at all being helpful.

Guilt was the rising action. Then everything fell into place soon after, not into place, more like a chaotic order, like a ton of bricks.

And that order made his feelings more intelligible.

He didn’t want to be in a relationship with Petra. That was all there is to it.

Love is a choice right? A tiny glimmer of protest made itself known in the silence. Those were words from Hange, echoed multiple times before in an exact tone and manner only Hange could ever pull off.

Can I choose to love Petra? Levi asked himself then.

Petra was a nice girl. She was helpful. She worked hard. She was competent. More importantly, she was single and she wasn’t married to his very rich client.

Most importantly though, in the grand scheme of all his experiences and emotions, Levi had to point out to himself, she wasn’t Hange.

Why don’t you give her a chance? Hange had asked that then. She goaded him, nudged him and pushed him out of his own office, to follow after Petra had left the office with the devices.

It's frowned upon, boss colleague relationship. Levi had argued.

Something tells me she likes you. Hange continued, as if she never heard of the unspoken taboos of office relationships. Maybe she hadn’t.

Besides, I noticed… You know, you look a lot happier. How that had ended up the conclusion of their conversation, Levi couldn't exactly tell. He remembered looking up at Hange, to hell with how far down his jaw dropped or how wide his eyes were. There was just something special about Hange pointing out something and how quickly something could easily become a certain reality when someone just verbalized it.

Maybe he was happier, maybe he started to appreciate nature a lot more. Maybe he had started to see more color the past few months.

His own recall of Hange, his own thoughts that flew back to her had him perceptive of the variety on his plate, the decorations on the shop for just a split second and when he looked up to Petra, a part of him was at the least attempting to appreciate.

Petra was a redhead, her hair fell in a neat bob that barely brushed her shoulders. Red was a nice color on hair, and Levi only noticed it then. He stared for a while longer, trying to find something to feel, something to think beyond ‘nice.’

Petra’s eyes shot up and she met his gaze. “This is it!”

“What?” Levi asked, almost instinctively. He felt a tad self conscious analyzing the shade of someone’s hair.

“I found the tea, the one I gave you last Christmas. You really liked it right?” Petra asked.

“The Jasmine Pearls?” He did remember the tea then he remembered telling her he really did enjoy it. A part of him had maybe forgotten for a split second that it was Petra who gave it so the question had shaken him more than necessary.

“I was only able to get it from a shipment last time. I had to book three months to get it. But they’re on sale now and---”

“She might prefer coffee though...” Levi said. His own intention had been to find the perfect present, but he ended up feeling guilty as soon as he saw Petra’s reaction.

Her face fell. She turned back to her phone for just a second before fixing her eyes back to his. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for that, I can’t believe I got so excited.” A blush crept up her face.

“No. Don’t think about it like that.” Levi attempted to maintain at least a ghost of a laugh in his tone. The last thing he wanted to do was keep Petra unnecessarily uncomfortable, especially after everything that had happened until that moment.

The air was heavy and he wondered if she noticed it too. She was probably too preoccupied with her own self proclaimed mistakes, very evident by the beet red of her face.

“Let’s go around first. We might come up with something better if we ask around the shops,” Levi suggested. It had been more to comfort her than anything else. The suggestions of a while ago, the list of items had only served to make Levi think a little deeper about it, to the point of acceptance.

Even before they had finished their food, Levi had already concluded for himself, whatever he gave Hange, whether it be a wallet, tea, a small trinket, Zeke had probably come up with a more expensive version, something he probably would have never considered buying himself.

Levi didn’t leave though. Soon after they finished eating, he still accompanied Petra to every shop. He made a facade for himself, a window shopper buying a birthday gift for a good friend, he asked enough questions to engage Petra, everything ending with the conclusion, “I’ll think about it.”

Overtime, he realized he wasn’t thinking too much of what was in front of him. His mind was elsewhere.

Besides, I noticed… You know, you look a lot happier. Hange was smiling when she said it, but the smile didn’t curl the same way the others did. She crinkled her eyes as she spoke but Levi could almost point out the sadness in them.

And he saw it every time he recalled that. What does that have to do with dating Petra?

I like seeing you happy and I think if you found someone to love, maybe you’ll stay like this much longer.

Like what?

More pleasant? Smiling more often? Appreciating stuff outside work?

Hange talked for longer after that but that had worked to motivate him to invite Petra out to get to know her, to ask for advice for a gift for Hange. Somehow, a part of him wanted to take Hange’s advice, stay ‘happy’ so in his own way, he could prove her right and maybe by extension, make her happy too.

But was entertaining a relationship with Petra the right way?

The question burned for longer. Even after they exhausted all the shops and all the ideas that came with it. It was around eight in the evening when they stood by the train station under the mall, exchanging goodbyes. “Make sure to get home safe.” A part of him had considered taking her home. Their trains went in completely opposite directions though.

“Will do,” Petra said.

“We have a long day ahead tomorrow.” They always had a long day ahead but at that point, Levi was foraging for something a boss would say.

“Yeah, I'll make sure to get the testing done tomorrow," Petra said. "What happened today, it definitely gave me the motivation. I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too.” His response was automatic, something he didn’t want to think too much of.

They separated soon after and when Levi boarded the train home, he entertained the question again.

Was entertaining a relationship with Petra the right way to be happy?

I think entertaining love is an opportunity to be happy at least. Hange argued. You don’t have to jump into it but I think building a relationship with someone teaches you a lot and love, it makes life colorful.

Colorful? The trains were grey, the suits of all the passengers were shades of black, grey and the occasional blue. An almost alarming transformation from the gardens, after long days of working with Hange.

A copy of the emotions alarm was downloaded onto his phone and in the silence of the long ride home, he opened it again. He clicked ‘activate,’ the application loaded, no emotion was detected.

It was a fun night right? Levi concluded, there really was some more to improve on in the application. With the amount of testing done, and the amount of data loaded, he also had to entertain the idea that maybe it wasn’t an issue with the application.

Maybe it was his own issue with appreciating, with being open to love. “That’s what you were saying, right Hange?” He whispered to himself. A second later, he thought maybe he had said it loud enough to sound like an idiot.

Before nervousness and overthinking could take over again, he willed himself to mull over Hange’s words like always.

Love is a choice and just be open to it. Even if he didn’t believe it for himself.

***

It turned out, Erwin also knew about Hange’s birthday. And he suggested a basket of fruit as a gift.

Levi had been a little surprised. For one, maintaining partner and customer relations was never part of his job so how the hell was he to know that baskets of fruits and cakes were customary.

And secondly, he was just a little indignant. Erwin was his boss though so he couldn’t tell him that. He complied before going back to his office and booting up his laptop. It felt odd.

The laptop pinged with a characteristic echo and it was much louder in the silence, the almost deafening silence. After all, most days, Hange would have been there to chatter his ear off about her own experience testing.

That day, she had taken the day off. A birthday leave. Just for herself. She took September four and September five off. The fourth was to prepare for the long trip. Then on the fifth, she had dinner with Zeke, in an Italian restaurant on the first floor of a luxury hotel near the city center.

He knew the details, he knew the name. But it has nothing to do with you. He constantly reminded himself, it was only on a good to know basis. Still, he entertained the idea that maybe he could stop by the city center on the train on the way home, just for the modicum of a probability that he did run into them. It was not like he had anything else to do on a Friday night anyway.

But you can think about that tomorrow. Levi scolded himself. Somehow, Hange not being there was making it more difficult to focus. After all, she had been there, every single day before.

Also, how could he entertain multiple other ideas about Hange’s birthday when he didn’t even have a present for her? He had managed to put off Petra’s suggestions lightly, by some distraction from work. He had managed to make a good excuse of the fruit basket, saying that it was better to give a gift as a company.

Really, it had been his own insecurity stopping from putting any money into anything. Zeke could buy Hange a billion wallets, a billion tea bags, a billion fruits basket if it suited him. Then it begged the question for Levi, what could he give that Zeke couldn’t?

The emotion alarm. The answer didn’t come quickly. It came after staring at the desktop screen for long enough to lose grip on the time but after a long moment of doing nothing, Levi eventually brought out a test device and opened the server.

There were three basic emotions. Anger, Sadness and Happieness. Those were the three Hange put into her plan. They were to create the application, test it among patients and study it to see how it could help with more accurate prognosis.

And if he went the extra mile, maybe he could just give it as a late birthday surprise. Or maybe he might end up never finishing it. At least I’d try. That last thought lingered for a second longer and it did its part to send a burst of confidence through him.

He looked through his workflow tracker. No assigned bugs to look into. So he opened a new document, pulled out a paper.

“Hange Zoe, you wanted to test emotions right?” He asked no one in particular. When he was asking questions out loud, ideas ended up flowing much faster. He pulled out a small paper from the post-it stack at the corner of his desk.

“What if we connect it to the web, make a dashboard to display reports, so maybe psychologists have something to look at after testing?” He could have said it out loud. Maybe he didn’t. He had said it loud enough in his head at least to keep his gears moving. “What if we find a way to quantify it?” That last part was ambitious. It would need Hange’s input for sure so he grappled with two ideas, surprising Hange and just suggesting it like a developer.

His ideas were risks, born of long hours of googling enough to maybe bullshit years of studying psychology. Maybe Hange wouldn’t agree, maybe she would. He copied the necessary code from the alarm anyway and decided to just play around with it.

It was a birthday present only he could give anyway.

Another idea popped into his head after an hour more of googling, a much more doable idea. Even before he made sense of it, he pulled another post-it from the side and wrote out the three emotions. Underneath them, he wrote the colors. Red. Blue. Yellow.

Yellow and red became orange. Red and blue became purple. Yellow and blue became green.

He wasn’t a psychologist, he wasn’t a philosopher. He was merely a developer. He was an experienced one at that and with the right amount of free time and the right amount of motivation, he managed at least to pull out a framework and recall the color of the leaf on Hange’s lap.

Red. Yellow. Blue. Orange. Green. Purple. He had enough time to work on some front end tasks that day.

***

He finished it on Friday, the fifth of September, at around noon and maybe he had done a few hours of overtime to get it done, arriving home at midnight just the night before.

It wasn’t perfect but the colors showed up as a big dot under the emotion, and the application would flash in bright shades of red, yellow, blue, orange, green and purple, the latter three a mix of the basic emotions.

It had been a small act of just manipulating the data, loading Hange’s USB full of data to get it to work. Whether it would be accurate, he couldn’t tell but it would be something good to bring up on Monday maybe, a risky birthday present but still, a little risk seemed better than omission when it came to Hange.

The last few parts were a little tests on his end, while testing in between, while signing off necessary decisions for the testing on Monday.

The testing never worked, no emotions flashed onto the screen the few times he tested and every single time, he reminded himself, it wasn’t perfect but maybe Hange would still appreciate it.

By five, he was out, right on time and with his own personal project completed and downloaded into his phone, his workflow tracker empty, and everything ready for the large scale QA event on Monday and he thought himself a little deserving of a little stroll at the city center on a Friday night.

At around thirty minutes past five, he boarded the train, the same route home, stopping five stops shy of his usual stop.

The station at the city center on a Friday night was bustling. It had taken him a good one minute to even push himself out of the train. He only ever managed to get a glimpse of the shops, the city lights beyond the crowds not when he stepped out of the station, but a few blocks after that when for a good few minutes the crowds dissipated into something a little more breathable.

The luxury hotel Hange had mentioned was one, if not the best one in the city and Levi easily picked it out as he stood towards one of the less saturated parts of the crosswalk. It was a skyscraper, the windows were of the modern kind that reflected city lights in a unique way and they covered the building from top to bottom. And even from just his peripherals, he could pick the building out by the strange iridescent flashes of color.

The view was very much worth the price and Levi only had to walk ahead, catch it as a small glimmer behind buildings and crowds to know he was going the right direction, despite having to ride through the crowds.

He arrived at the block, the building only a few feet away, close enough that he had to strain his neck to get a glance of the skyscraper at the top. He looked back down at his phone.

6:30. Hange said they had a reservation for seven. He wondered why he was putting himself through that torture. Would he even get to talk to her? Eventually he realized, might as well make use of that information just to satisfy his curiosity again.

The restaurant was a small place, with glass windows, and if Levi stared long enough he could make out every single face there. For a Friday, it was still empty and he was able to conclude without much of a long glance that Hange wasn’t there.

So he took a good long stroll around the block. He entered leather shops, boutiques that sold branded clothing, staying long enough that the salesman had thought he would have bought.

Thirty minutes passed with a few bumps along the way. Sometimes minutes lasted years, sometimes they lasted split seconds but the bumpy wait was long enough for him to realize that he was doing something completely stupid.

It was Hange's birthday. That was Hange and Zeke's night. All he could give her that day was a greeting, and maybe a basket of fruits, care of Erwin.

So he planned a birthday message, saving it in the drafts. He didn’t have to give her the modified birthday application as a present. He could always prepare a script to pitch his suggested changes for the application on Monday. Disappointment and surrender had him lethargic and for a while after exiting the last store, Levi leaned back on some free brick wall where the space was for rent, a good distance away from the sea of people but still close enough that if he just stretched out his arm, he might just get dragged in.

He leaned back and stared, allowing himself that bout of reprieve as he watched the crowds go by. Crowds of people weren’t anything new, he dealt with those everyday trying to squeeze into the trains during rush hour every morning.

Crowds on a Friday, in the center of the city weren’t something he was completely used to though. He hated crowds and he always strategically timed his personal shopping trips to late afternoons on weekdays, particularly when it was much easier to maintain a comfortable distance from strangers.

When he was observing, time went by at a sluggish pace. For a while, Levi was hypnotized by the strange cadence that accompanied the view. The longer he stared, the more perceptive he became. There was a very big difference between crowds on a weekday during rush hour and crowds on a Friday night moving through a shopping district.

When he was close enough, he immediately picked it out, like a very small diamond in a sea of coal, invisible at first but from the right angle, it suddenly became crystal clear. Crowds in rush hour comprised hard, focused individuals. They were like streams: movements were loud, hard wired towards one direction.

Crowds on a Friday night were more like a river, they were moving but only barely, very subtly. Of course they would, the faces were relaxed, the people were rarely alone. Some clusters in the crowds came as one family, others came in groups of friends and others came in couples.

The more faces Levi scanned, the heavier he became. It dawned on him soon after he was alone in crowd of people and he was fucking lonely. For a second he considered testing his application, he decided soon after that he probably didn’t want a bunch of code rubbing his own loneliness and singleness in his face. For another second, he almost considered inviting Petra over.

Shaking both temporal thoughts away, Levi turned the corner and back to the main road, making some excuse that the main road which passed the five star hotel was the closest way back to the station. It was a valid conclusion at least, the main road was wide enough, and the shops were few and far in between that social distancing wasn’t too big of an issue.

There was another conclusion Levi liked to entertain though. He checked his watch. 7:30.

Hange had said before, the reservation was at seven. He dove into a crowd, while catching a glimpse of the restaurant to the window. Hange was surprisingly easy to spot, maybe because Levi had first swept through the seats on the corner with his vision. He spotted the brown hair, the glasses and a dark purple cocktail dress. Notably, there was no blond companion in front of her.

Zeke was in the toilet, his rational mind justified. “Have fun, Hange,” Levi said. At least he got to see her on her birthday, he allowed himself a passing thought on how well she had dressed up that night, similar to months ago when he had completed the test app. Then he brushed that thought away, looked straight ahead. He stayed with the sea of people, long enough to pass the hotel and as soon as he was a good distance away, he broke away, taking the underground path to the station.

It was still early and the station entrance was surprisingly more peaceful than above ground. He had enough space to open up his phone and check the birthday greeting in his drafts box.

Happy birthday Hange! Excited to continue working with you. See you on Monday for app testing. Btw, thanks for volunteering for the calibration on Monday.

He evaluated for himself that the text was a good balance between casual and professional. Satisfied, Levi clicked send and pocketed his phone as he made his way to the ticket gate.

The next time he opened his phone was in the train, three train stops in when he was lucky enough to catch an empty seat.

Thanks, Levi :)

It was too short of a message for Levi to read through and he was almost disappointed at such a turn out.

What did you expect, an ‘I love you?’ The tremble in his lips was enough evidence, that maybe a part of him did, as embarrassing, as ridiculous of a prospect as it was. He hovered his thumb over the keyboard, letting the weight of the incomprehensible emotions pass before he typed.

See you on Monday. That’s what he had wanted to type, just to keep the conversation going. Hange was still typing though.

Levi was staring at the bubbles above the message box for a good long few minutes. Minutes, it definitely took minutes. Hange was typing long enough for a station to announce a next stop, enough for the train to empty at that stop, enough for it to refill and enough for the conductor to announce the next stop,

The text eventually came. Where are you right now?

How the hell had that taken minutes to write, Levi didn’t know. He wasn’t eager to reciprocate though.

He replied within a few seconds. Why?

Hange took a little longer to reply. The bubble on the screen continued to bounce as Hange Zoe continued to type.

Nothing much. I was just curious. It had taken almost another train stop for Hange to type those six words.

A split second later, another message appeared underneath. Sorry for bothering you. So Hange wasn’t just a slow typer.

It was still eight in the evening, too early that for most, the night hadn’t even started. So Levi took a risk. He left the train at the next stop, boarded the other train that ran through that same line, the train that would bring him back to the city center.

Hange, you okay? He texted.

Hange didn’t reply. There was no bouncing of bubbles above the message box, but he continued to stare, just in case. And that little motion on the screen was a fickle thing.

Sometimes it appeared, sometimes it didn’t.

Hange Zoe is typing.... And sometimes, he stared at it for long enough that it seared into his vision even a minute after it was long gone from the screen.

She never did type anything and maybe he had waited too long for a response. By the time he arrived at the right station again, he tapped his card and exited the ticket gate and ran through the underground. When he reached above ground, he tried to maintain the same speed. That involved pushing through crowds and being a small man, he realized it wasn’t too much of a bother to anyone. After all, with the amount of people huddled in the crowds under the cool air of late summer, he wasn’t the only one pushing.

He didn’t have time to check his phone. And soon, he realized he didn’t need to. He arrived back at the hotel to find Hange hunched over, unmoving in the same seat she had been just a few hours back.

Zeke is in the toilet. Levi told himself. He waited a minute, then another. And when he looked closely, he realized, Hange was on her phone. He opened his phone to see the bubbles bounce again.

Hange Zoe is typing…

Levi was counting minutes, and the bubble never disappeared. He looked back up at the glass door to see Hange was still not moving, still slouched, her head bent over. To the phone on her lap maybe?

He looked back at his phone and concluded then, Hange had been typing for ten minutes.

Maybe Zeke is taking a shit. He set an alarm for ten minutes. The hotel and restaurant bathroom wouldn’t be too far. And no one took a shit for more than twenty minutes right? If Zeke didn’t come back in ten minutes, maybe that meant she was alone.

Ten minutes went by quickly. And a few times Hange had typed, a few times she had laid her phone on the table and leaned back on the chair. A waiter had offered wine once and Hange shook her head.

It would be rude to barge in but at the same time, there were answers he was desperate to get. He sent a message. Are you alone?

The typing stopped for a second. Then it continued for a minute. Then it stopped. Finally, like the sunshine after the rain, a chat bubble appeared and Levi savored the sound for a split second before he took in the contents.

Just one word. Yeah

Where’s Zeke?

He’s not coming tonight.

Levi leaned on the wall just next to the window and typed one message. You need someone there with you?

A few times he glanced back to see a waiter near her, handing Hange a small tray. The bill? He guessed. Hange should be going out soon but she continued to sit, for a few seconds longer.

Her reply came within those few seconds. I don’t wanna be alone tonight.

Levi leaned back on the wall and he closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, grappling with the conflict. Should he be happy? Sad?

His phone continued to buzz. Hange had left messages in succession.

Can I stop by?

I know a lot of places won’t be open.

We can get fast food.

Somewhere near your place maybe?

Anywhere that would be convenient for you.

Only if you’re not busy though.

Don’t feel obliged.

A string of messages, longer than he expected.

Exit the shop. Turn right and follow the sidewalk. Don’t cross the street. He was shit at the directions, but he decided for himself, she would ask anyway if she got lost.

It turned out, at the least, the directions sufficed. Soon he was hearing the clack of leather shoes, the rustle of a light autumn coat and Hange’s voice.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was loud and clear even when it was competing with the sea of crowds, the other background conversations, the ads and the sound of traffic. Of course it would be, she was right next to him.

“Are you okay?” Levi asked. It wasn’t the best greeting but it felt like the most natural thing to say.

After all, Hange was smiling but it was an unusual smile. It was one of those smiles that seemed to be carrying a heavy weight. He figured it out after staring for a while longer. it was the weight of her cheeks, the prickling of her eyes. If she let the smile go, maybe everything would have fallen with it.

He gripped her by the hand. “You wanna go somewhere?”

“Let’s get out of here,” Hange said, a noticeable crack in her voice.

Maybe that had been enough to break the fragile smile on her face. In the crowds of people, in the middle of a busy street, there was no time for Levi to check. He thought it the best move to pull and maybe she thought it the best move to follow. She was obedient, predictable and light and he easily brought her farther from the center, towards the quieter parts of the city.

Five minutes of brisk walking, or maybe it was ten and soon, they reached an area with clusters of apartment buildings, residences. There were still small shops, a few restaurants and hole in the wall food stalls, some with lines spilling out all the way until the sidewalk.

At first, it seemed hopeless to find some place just for both of them. With time, Levi started to imagine one particular place that wouldn’t have so many people that late at night.

It should be bedtime for kids already anyway. He thought to himself. And when he articulated it, he was sure, there should be one. And there should be no people.

He just had to find one.

Five more minutes of following the winding roads between apartment buildings and he found one, a comfortable distance away from apartments. They could easily manage a soft conversation with no risk of being heard. He sat back on the swing, taking in the slide, the sandbox a few feet away, the monkey bars and high rise apartment buildings with most windows already illuminated just above them.

Hange had taken the seat beside him.

“Are you okay?” Levi asked again.

“I’m fine,” Hange spat out, only proving she was definitely not fine. There was enough light from the one street light on the corner, the shades of orange, red and white coming from the window and they had all worked together to show a glimmer of Hange’s face, even with her head bent down.

“Are you crying?”

The answer came in heaved breaths. The question must have made her more conscious. She bent down further on the swing. Her bangs covered her face and whatever glimmer he had seen a while ago was forgotten. Eventually, she gathered herself. “Levi, if you ask people why they’re crying, sometimes they just start crying.” She let out another breath.

That didn’t convince him to stop. “Why are you crying?”

“You don’t ask people that.” That time, the words came out a little more seamlessly.

“You asked me if I was crying back then… Back in the office.” Levi never forgot that harrowing experience and it was an easy memory to bring up.

There was silence for a second, save for a few more ragged breaths, the creak of the swing and maybe a few barking dogs from the distance.

Hange broke it herself, her voice much clearer than a while ago. “Sorry, I’m just tired,” she said. “Really tired.”

“Zeke ditched?” Maybe ditch wasn’t the right term. By the time he considered that, the words were long gone from his mouth.

“I knew he wasn’t coming,” Hange said. She pushed on the swing just a little bit, enough to have her swaying.

“Why did you wait?”

“We had a reservation.”

“But if he told you…”

“He told me to cancel it.”

“And your road trip?”

“He said not this weekend. He has a few more meetings and he couldn’t come home on time.” Hange’s voice was alarmingly serious, a sign of acceptance maybe?

Levi hoped not. In a feeble attempt to lighten the mood, he spoke up. “Happy Birthday.”

“I’d rather not think it’s my birthday.” Hange let out a pitiful excuse of a laugh. “How many birthdays do people even get, and here I am wasting one of them being sad.”

“I’m not the best company but I can try to do my part to help make it better,” Levi pulled out his phone and opened his email, opening the apk file he had been working on since that morning. He copied the download link and pasted it on Hange’s message box.

The message was sent quickly and the popping sound from Hange’s phone filled the silence of the empty playground.

“Happy birthday,” Levi said once again with a little more flourish.

“I told you, don’t remind me. Let’s just sit here and talk.” Hange gripped the chains of the swing and leaned back.

“Check your damn phone Hange.”

“Nah… My phone has been chocked full of disappointments since this morning.”

“I sent you your birthday gift through your phone.”

“It can wait until later,” Hange argued.

She was like a five year old child and Levi was starting to give up on even keeping the surprise.“I modified the app,” he said.

“What?” That had gotten Hange’s attention. She pulled out her phone.

“I created another copy of it, played around with the code.”

“Why?” She seemed curious more than anything. Curious was better than sad at least.

“As a birthday gift,” Levi said. “Just open the damn phone.”

Hange picked it up from her lap. A clicking sound as she unlocked the phone then silence and maybe a hint of humming as Hange fiddled with her phone. “I just download it right?”

“No shit Sherlock.” It was a stupid question. Hange had downloaded apk files more times than he could even count.

“Well, you said it’s a new app,” Hange said in defense.

“It is and it isn’t.” Levi moved his head, and it settled as a mix between a shake and a nod. “It’s not part of the original research plan… and I didn’t have much time to test it so it’s not perfect.” He unlocked his own phone and opened the emotions alarm. He stared at it for a second, hovering his thumb over the activate button then he looked over at Hange’s phone. “No need for an email. Just open it.”

“Nothing’s changed,” Hange said.

“Well, I added colors now,” Levi shrugged. “And I tried adding more emotions by playing around with the data, but who knows if they’ll show up.” At that point, he was self conscious enough that he saw it as an obligation enough to manage expectations.

He heard the familiar sound and he was sure Hange had activated it. He activated his own and leaned back on the swing and pushed just a little bit, enough to occupy himself while the alarm read them both.

Hange’s phone rang first.

“What did you get?”

“You added purple?” Hange asked. “What the hell does this mean?”

“Red and blue. So if red is anger and blue is sadness…” Levi started.

“Go on…” Hange said.

“I’m not a philosopher nor a psychologist. You say something.”

“Loathing?” She suggested. “A combination of anger and sadness… It sounds like loathing to me, or indignance.”

His own phone rang, he put the screen up. “I got green. Blue and yellow. Sad and happy. Can someone be sad and happy at the same time?”

“Acceptance,” Hange answered. “Or desire.”

“Those are opposites.” “Opposite sides of the spectrum but they’re the same feelings, they both involve happiness and sadness. Acceptance is sad happiness. Desire is happy sadness.”

He almost regretted asking for Hange’s feedback. He felt her speculation at the pit of his stomach and he only realized when his phone fell to the ground that he froze, lost his balance on the swing for a second. “This hasn’t been tested though so it’s all for fun.” A pathetic disclaimer but it didn’t seem to work. He looked up to see Hange was staring at him.

The tears had dried and her eyes were a bit brighter and she seemed more inquisitive than sad. “You know... " Hange started off slow,  breathless from amazement maybe. She was still fiddling, staring at her own screen. "This might be a good idea for the app. Let's test this again on Monday. Maybe we could add this."

“Maybe. We’re gonna have to revise the plan if we do.”

“Or we can keep it just a personal project but let’s think about it Monday.” Hange stood up. It’s getting late.” She put her hands up and stretched, swaying from side to side.

“Yeah, it’s getting cold too,” Levi said. Summer was ending soon.

“Happy Birthday to me,” she added, the venom from a while ago apparent. She pocketed her phone then held her sweater close. “Zeke said to wait a few weeks. I guess I’m gonna have to wait until next year to enjoy summer up north again. Maybe we can go south instead.” She kept her voice cheery, an attempt to lighten the mood.

A seemingly unsuccessful attempt. “You still wanna see summer up north?” Levi asked.

“I wouldn’t mind waiting. I guess what hurts about it is, I’ve been psyching myself up for days. I bought new clothes. I’ve been packing and I’ve already created a route for us,” Hange said.

“Yeah, you were talking about it a few days back, about how this one garden reminds you of Pemberley.” Levi asked.

“Well, last time I went there was a few years ago… There’s an area that reminds me of Pemberley, another one that reminds me of the Rosing garden---” Hange trailed off.

“I wanna see them all,” Levi said. He never finished the book and he wondered if she noticed. Regardless, he wanted to see it anyway. If there was something Hange could talk about for hours, something that had left her a lump of disappointment, he wanted to see it for himself.

“Really?” She said. “But with testing on monday… And you don’t seem like the type to---” Even under the dark night, Hange looked flustered, the pink in her cheeks still apparent.

“As long as we’re back before Monday right?” He didn’t know if she would agree. He didn’t expect her to but when Hange was already hovering such a prospect up in the air. When she had misunderstood that last statement to have been an invite, he might as well just play along. And enjoy it. “I don’t see any problem going with you,” he added that last part just to make it a little clearer.

"Like this weekend?" Hange asked, a look of disbelief on her face.

"This weekend." Levi nodded.

“Then let’s go. When do you think you’ll be ready?”

“We could leave right now.”

[farfromsugafanfic]

Sutures - Chapter Seven: Knotted

Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Yoongi/Named Reader

Warnings (chapter specific): eavesdropping, angst, Yoongi kinda being a dick but not too bad lol

Synopsis: “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” –Jean de la Fontaine

There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

Previous | Series Masterlist | Next

The warm water ran down your skin and onto the tiled floor of the shower. It was odd having a shower where you could stretch your arms out wide in, you were used to small showers that barely allowed you to shave your legs without hitting your head. But, the shower at the dorm was huge and you couldn't help, but stay in for much longer than was needed, allowing the water to massage your shoulders. 

After finding out that all of South Korea (and probably beyond) knew your name and thought you cheated on Minki, you'd curled up on the seat of the car. If you hadn't let Eunji drag you to the bar that night, none of this ever would've happened. You never would've met Yoongi. 

Your heart pained when the thought crossed your mind. Never meeting Yoongi. Despite the fact, he seemed to be more trouble than he was worth, there was part of your heart that didn't want to let go of him. And, it was the part you knew you needed to suppress. 

You heard a soft knock on the door, barely audible over the sound of the water. You knew it was him before he even spoke, you weren't sure if it was due to the soulmates thing or if your heart truly was betraying you because as soon as you heard his voice, all the stress you held in your chest released. 

"Sumi? Is it all right if I come in?"

"Yeah," you said. You weren't overly worried about Yoongi catching sight of your naked body. There was enough steam on the shower doors to disguise you, and it wasn't like he hadn't seen it before. 

"We can do my--uh--date once you get out," he said. "It's nothing much, but I hope it's okay. I brought you some clothes."

"Thanks." 

"Do you prefer coffee or tea?"

"Tea." 

"Okay, when you're done just come to my studio. I've left you a note with the code." 

---

You finished a few minutes later wrapping your hair up in a towel. You glanced down at the clothes he'd left for you, smiling when recognized them as pajamas with Shooky, his BT21 character on them. You smiled. 

You changed and braided your hair so that it would stay out of the way and would be easy to tend to the next morning before the flight to Japan. After washing your face, you reached into the pocket of the pajamas and pulled out the sticky note with the code to Yoongi's studio. 

Despite having been in his studio before, it felt odd entering the code yourself. You held your finger gingerly above the keypad and entered each number slowly, scared that if you messed up the code an alarm would go off. 

4...6...5...5...9...click!

The lock released and you heaved open the door surprised that it was so heavy. When you walked in, you found blankets on the couch and a laptop perched on the desk a couple feet from the desk. You smiled and sat down on the couch, crossing your legs, and pulling a blanket over yourself. 

Despite having been in the studio before, it seemed dirtier than before. Papers were scattered across his desk and a few coffee cups that escaped the trash. Ever since you had come together, it was obvious he wasn't getting as much work done, and that that was frustrating him. 

You also noticed the three framed photos near his main computer. One of him and the other members all wearing leis and posing in what you assumed as a Hawaiian airport. The other was of you presumed his family; his parents and what looked like an older brother. Yoongi was still a teenager in the picture and you couldn't help, but smile at how awkwardly adorable he looked with hair that stuck up and a face that wasn't quite adult yet. The third photo was that of a brown poodle puppy. 

You glanced down at the desk and noticed a photo peeking out from underneath a handful of papers. You pushed it aside and gasped when you saw that it was actually a print off of an email with a photo attachment. A photo of you and Yoongi from the alleyway. His arms around you and his mask down beneath his chin. From the angle, it looked as if he were kissing your forehead and you sighed, knowing Yoongi would probably not do such a thing in public, even if your relationship was completely real and straightforward. 

You noticed the email address came from the presumed photographer and your chest tied in knots as you hoped that meant Yoongi was trying to prevent the photo from being released. You heard the code being punched in and quickly shuffled the email back under papers and picked up the picture of Yoongi and his family and pretended to study it intensely. 

"Hey," he said, holding two mugs, making you curious as to how he opened the door in the first place. His eyes widened slightly when he saw you holding the framed photo. 

"Sorry," you said, placing the photo back on his desk. "Your family looks nice." 

Yoongi smiled. "They really want to meet you," he said. He handed you the hot mug of tea. "I didn't want to pressure you, especially since we're trying to sever this." 

"My parents have been the same," you said. "They're so happy about this whole soulmate thing. They didn't even care that you were an idol." 

"My parents were happy you were normal." 

You laughed. "Are we watching a movie?"

"Yeah," Yoongi said. "I have a couple things to finish up first if you don't mind. You can pick something while you wait, it should only be a few minutes." 

You nodded and started scrolling through Netflix on his laptop. You scrolled through the various offerings, unsure of Yoongi's preferences. Would it be inappropriate to watch something romance heavy? Would it make him uncomfortable? 

Yoongi seemed like the type of guy to like a classic gangster movie, but that wasn't something you were into. Although, you were fairly certain neither of you were huge fans of horror.

You eventually settled on a movie somewhere in the middle with a smattering of everything. A little action and a little romance, but not so unbearably cheesy that you wouldn't enjoy it. 

When you glanced up at Yoongi, he was seated at his desktop with headphones perched atop his gray hair. His head bounced slowly to a beat you couldn't hear and you could see bits of sounds and recordings that he was arranging on his screen. 

You took a sip of your tea and waited.

---

"Thanks for meeting up with me on such short notice," you said, adjusting the laptop screen so that there wasn't a glare on your face. "My schedule changed and I'm going to be out of the city for the next week." 

"It's not a problem," Jinwoo said, smiling, a pen in his hand and just the corner of his notebook visible. "If you don't mind me asking, where are you going?" 

"Japan," you said, not thinking much of your answer.

"Oh wait," Jinwoo said. "Jang Sumi? I think I saw you on a magazine cover? With Min Yoongi?" 

"Oh, uh, yeah," you said. "That's me." 

"So, you're his soulmate? How does that work?" 

"I don't really want to talk about this right now," you said. "Unless you can do it in English." You tried to lighten the mood, tried to make it sound like the fact your client knew what was happening in your personal life didn't make a rock sink low in your stomach.

Jinwoo laughed. "It's okay, I understand. I imagine it's hard having to uproot your life just because of your biological soulmate or whatever." 

You smiled, his flippant tone catching you off guard. "It would really help if he wasn't so busy. I can't blame the guy, he has a fantastic career, but it's hard on me." 

"You're still wearing his pajamas though."

"What?" 

"Shooky," he said. "Suga created that character." 

"Oh," you said. "He just gave them to me. Maybe he had an extra pair or something." 

"Or, he likes you more than he lets on."

"He really doesn't. We were supposed to have a date tonight, but he just kept working and forgot about it." Your lips tightened when you finished the sentence. You'd only talked to Jinwoo once before and your heart pounded as you realized what you'd just said. "Uh, sorry, you're just easy to talk to." 

"It's all right," he said. "I like to think we're friends, so it's okay."

---

Yoongi realized you were gone after almost two hours. He took off his headphones and glanced down at his watch and cursed. 

If it weren't for the crumpled blankets on the couch, he'd never know you'd ever been there. He knew he'd let you down, it was a simple movie, two hours at the most. He couldn't even spare two hours for you?

He exited his studio and headed down the hallway towards your room. He could hear your laugh, which made him smile. Thankful the hallway was abandoned, lest his smile due to your presence be discovered, he pressed his shoulder against your door frame. Your door was cracked and he could see you seated at your desk. He raised his hand to knock lightly on your door when he caught a look at your computer screen. 

It was another boy. He was young and Yoongi didn't like the way his eyes seemed to devour you, even through the screen. 

"He just gave them to me. Maybe he had an extra pair or something." You looked down at the pajamas you had on and ran your thumb over the collar.

He couldn't hear the boy's response, but your eyes widened and your shoulders tensed. 

"He really doesn't. We were supposed to have a date tonight, but he just kept working and forgot about it." Yoongi balled his fists. You were being reckless. It was obvious that you were uncomfortable with all the media attention, but you were doing nothing to help yourself. "Uh, sorry, you're just easy to talk to."  

Yoongi left your doorway and rambled back down the hallway.

---

"Hey Jiminie, can you pass me the other end?" 

Jimin sat on the opposite of the couch in the living room. He was in the middle of slurping up noodles, but quickly put down his bowl and chopsticks to hand you the end of the scarf. 

"Jiminie? I'm older than you, right?"

"Oh, I guess you are," you said. "But, you're so cute, it's easy to forget. You don't mind, do you?" A smirk broke out on your lips. 

"No, I like it actually." 

Jimin had just picked up his bowl of ramen when Yoongi came into the room. You could practically feel the anger rolling off him in waves. 

"Sumi," he said. "We need to talk?"

You looked up at him, your eyes large and confused. "About what?" 

Jimin had taken an interest, obviously noticing the older boy's anger. He sat down his ramen and scooted closer to you. "Yoongi, what's wrong?"

Jimin's question only annoyed him more. His body stiffened and his eyes looked nearly black. 

"What's wrong? She's so worried about her image and all the publicity, but yet is telling one of her clients all about us."

"Were you spying on me?"

"I came looking for you after--"

You looked up at him, your arms crossed. "I never would've left if--"

"That's not the point!" Yoongi's voice raised slightly. Although, he wasn't yelling. He didn't seem like to yell when he got angry, rather he sizzled in the heat until he popped like a popcorn kernel. "You can't just tell someone like him! You have no idea who this guy is! What if he goes to the press? We'd have another Minki on our hands! Are you stupid?"

Tears pricked at your vision and you felt Jimin's hand on your wrist, but it left as soon as you moved to rub your eyes. 

"Yoongi, calm down. She's not used to all this. She just made a mistake." 

"I didn't go on that date to watch you work, Yoongi. I'm sorry if I got frustrated and vented to someone who listened. But, this never would've happened if you would've just watched the movie. We were supposed to get to know each other." 

"I guess you know who I am now." 

---

"I'm sorry, Sumi," Jimin said, following you into your room and plopping beside you on your bed. "Yoongi sometimes gets like this. I promise he'll get over it in a couple days." 

"I really don't want to go to Japan, Jimin. I don't want to be around him." Your face fell into your hands. "But, I have to." 

"Shh, Sumi. It'll be okay. Just try to get some sleep. I'll stay with you if you want." 

You shook your head. "No," you said. "Thank you though. It just doesn't feel right." 

He nodded, seeming to understand and left you alone. 

You laid down and pulled the covers to your chin. You hated to turn Jimin away. The last thing you wanted was to be alone, but ever since that night with Yoongi, only his arms made you feel safe. 

You silently cursed and pulled Kitty to your chest.

---

Jimin shut your door quietly and shook his head. He hated to see you and Yoongi fight. From the day he met you, he could tell there something odd about your dynamic. The quiet understanding of each other, but yet the fierce opposition.

He passed by Yoongi's studio, the light on. Jimin knew Yoongi would probably spend the rest of the night there, not wanting to step foot in the hallway due to the fear of facing you again. 

Jimin smiled as he remembered your ragged stuffed cat. He'd done just as you had asked and placed Kitty in the donation pile. It was only later when making another trek into the living room to place more into boxes that he noticed Yoongi slipping the stuffed cat into his bag. 

He hadn't said anything then, but the morning you asked him if he was the one who'd saved the hapless creature, he couldn't help but sneak a glance at the true savior who hid his smile behind sips of morning coffee.

[thadelightfulone]

All I Want... 25 Days of Christmas Challenge, Day 16

A/N: Sorry for the delay...but I think you’ll forgive me for the wait. 😏

December 18th - Part 1

DeeDee checked herself out in the mirror. She had on her favorite pantsuit and decided on a low slicked back chignon for her hair. She ran her hands down the suit jacket one last time and looked at her reflection.

“Today’s the day, DeeDee. We have worked so hard to get here and we deserve everything that is coming to our way.” She smiled and put her tortoise shell glasses on.  “I’m proud of you and everything you will go on to accomplish starting today.”

DeeDee heard her phone chime and buzz across her dresser. She walked over and picked it up. It was Phyllis in the group chat.

Phyll: Your presentation is at 4pm, right?

DeeDee: Yes

Phyll: The Engineering building?

DeeDee: Yup

Phyll: What room?

DeeDee: 1759

Phyll: We’ll see you there. 

DeeDee: Great, see you later.

Bev: We love you, DeeDee. 

DeeDee: Love you, too.

DeeDee made her way out to the living room and grabbed her purse and laptop case from next to her desk. She locked up and headed to campus to get settled in for a long day. 

---

Erik was cleaning up his desk. He came in early to send out the last of his work emails before he left for a week. He locked up his computer and stood up to leave when T’Challa walked in and stood near his desk. 

“Hey Cuz.”

“You leave today, right?”

“Yup, my flight leaves in 2 hours.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m excited to see Dr. Bell. She helped me work through a lot of shit while I was in school.”

“That is expected, but you know what I mean.” 

T’Challa took a seat in front of Erik’s desk. He pointed towards the chair across from him. Erik put his briefcase down and took a seat. 

“How are you feeling?”

Erik is quiet for a moment, deep in thought. “Ready.” 

“And you are sure?”

“You and Quis, I swear.” He rolled his eyes. “I get it. I messed up before. But at least, she showed her true self before I made a horrible decision.” 

“Erik, we ask because we care.” T’Challa sat forward in the chair, “You were in such a rush to find the one and get married. You never took the time to really get to know her.” 

“I know, I know.”

“You told her exactly what she needed to hear for her to act like the woman for you.” He put emphasis on act. “And she tried to trap you. So, yes we want to make sure that you know what the hell you are doing this time around.”

“I don’t need to be reminded of that fuck up.” He sighed, “Besides Quis said she is nothing like her. And I do know that for myself, too.”

“Marquis knows her?”

“Yeah, she is one of his doctoral students. Actually, hold on a sec.” He pulled out his phone. He went to a text thread, where his previous text was still unread.

Prince Erik: Good morning DeeDee. I hope you have a great day.

Prince Erik: Hey, you never did tell me how your presentation went. Let me know where we are celebrating.

Erik looked back at T’Challa, “Where was I? Right, DeeDee was one of his students.”

“Ok, and what do you know about her?” 

“I know that she is everything I am looking for. She’s smart, funny and sweet. She calls me on my crap. Even if she is super nice about it.”

T’Challa nodded his head, “And you are ready for her? 

“Yes, I am. And I know I deserve someone like her.” Erik smiled, “All the bullshit I went through in my last relationship, let me know I wasn’t ready back then. You’re right, I rushed and almost got in too deep with someone, who was all wrong for me.”

T’Challa looked at Erik, then touched his ring, “Does she know?” 

“Yeah, and doesn’t even care.” He smiled, “I’m telling you, T. She is it.”

“For your sake, I really hope she is.” 

He stood up and Erik followed. 

“I’ll be fine.” Erik looked at his watch, “I should get going. I’ll see you when I get back.”

“Until then, cousin.” T’Challa hugged him, and then Erik grabbed his things. They left his office together. 

---

DeeDee has watched three other defenses already. They were breaking for lunch before reconvening for the last two of the day. She made her way back to Dr. O’s office. He was letting her use it for the day. 

“Hey DeeDee, how you feeling?”

“Hi Dr. O. I’m ok.” She took a seat on the couch. “I am not feeling as nervous now, but I am definitely ready for it to be over.”

“I get it. I’m so sorry that you couldn’t go earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m hoping they chose to give me the last spot because they liked my topic best.”

“I like the way you think.”

“Thanks, Dr. O.” Her phone goes off, “Ooooh, let me go get my friends. I’ll be back in a bit.” 

“Sure thing. I’ll see you back in the main room.”

DeeDee checked her phone and went outside to meet with Beverly and Phyllis. She hadn’t seen or spoken to Phyllis, but she had chatted with Beverly since that disastrous night out.  

They ran up to her and gave her hugs. 

“I’m so sorry girl.” Phyllis said as they all stepped back.

“I don’t know what’s going on. But don’t take that out on me.” DeeDee finally spoke.

“I know, I know. I just -” 

“Men trouble.” Bev nodded towards Phyllis.

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Your new friend, Erik.”

“What about him?” DeeDee rolled her eyes, “You know what, we can discuss this later. It’s time for the next presentation to start.”

All three of them walked to the room and DeeDee led them to seats in the center on the left-hand side. She returned to her spot up front and sat down to wait for the next doctoral student to present.

---

Marquis’ cell rang while he sat in his office. 

“Hey E. What’s up man?”

“I’m back.” 

“Wait! You’re already here?”

“Yeah, I just made it to my hotel. Figured I would hit you up to see what you’re doing tonight.” 

“Just a simple dinner with the fam. But you are more than welcome to join us.” Marquis pulled his phone away and looked at the time, “What are you doing now?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“Come visit me on campus.”

“Seriously?”

“You ain’t doing nothing and I have to be here, so yeah. Just bring ya ass.”

“Is your office in the Engineering building?”

“Yeah, I’m in 1590, at the end of the main hall.”

“Alright, I’ll see you in 30.”

“Great, text me if I’m not in my office when you arrive.”

---

DeeDee blinked and the presentation after their lunch break was over. She sighed and looked back at her friends. She didn’t bother to invite any members of her family. They would see her on Christmas and besides she wanted to concentrate on her presentation. It would not happen if she saw them in the audience, clapping and cheering before she could even talk. 

She went to them, “I gotta grab my things from Dr. O’s office. I’ll be back in a few.”

“Yeah, ok. I need to use the bathroom.” Phyllis said as she stood up. “Bev, you good here?”

“Actually, I’ll go with you, DeeDee.” 

Walking out of the room, DeeDee reminded Phyllis where the first floor bathroom was and they all split once they got to the hallway. 

---

Erik entered the building and stood at the top of the hallway. Not much had changed about the old building. He walked over to the directory and looked at the faculty names. He recognized a few of them and ran his hand over Dr. Bell’s name. It showed her office was across the hall from Marquis’. Great.

He started walking down the long hall, when a voice called out to him.

“Excuse me?”

The feminine voice caught his attention. He slowed to a stop.

“Yes, you. Are you lost?" He could hear the click clack of heels, “Maybe I can help you.”

He turned around to see a young woman in a suit approach him. 

“Oh no, I’m fine. But thank you.”

“You sure?” 

Erik watched as she looked him up and down. He gathered himself, “I’m positive, I’ve been here before.”

“Really? I’m here often and I would have remembered you.” Her voice dropped an octave.

“I bet you would.” He laughed, “Look, I really should be going. My friend is waiting for me in his office.” He looked behind her, “And it looks like someone is looking for you.”

She turned around and saw hands waving dramatically in the air. 

“Phyllis, hurry up. It’s gonna start soon.”

“Alright, I’m coming.” She turned back around to look at Erik, “I hope I get to see you again.”

He nodded at her and made his way down the hall. “Not if I can help it,” He mumbled.

Erik knocked on Marquis’ office door. He pitched his voice. “Excuse me, Dr. O.” 

“Why are you knocking? Come on in.”

He walked in and Marquis jumped up when he saw him.

“I thought. You know what -- nevermind.” He gave Erik a hug, “How you doing man?”

“I’m good, I’m good.” 

“You look it. Still living at the gym when you aren’t at work, I see.”

“I mean, you know. I never again want to look like the stick that shared an award with you.”

They both laughed.

“So, why are you still here on a Friday afternoon? You could be on your break already.”

“I will be. Immediately after this last doctoral defense presentation.”

Erik huffed and pulled out his phone. He hadn’t heard anything from DeeDee yet today. He shook his head and put it away.

“So, those were today?”

“Yup. There is one more and then we can go get drinks before I take you to see the family.”

“Yeah, sure that’s fine.”

Marquis locked up his office and they walked down the hall to the main room.

---

Erik sat in the back row out of the way, while Marquis walked to the front and gathered everyone’s attention. As he looked out ahead of him, he saw the girl from earlier seated on the opposite side from him. She was talking to her friend and kept looking back at him. 

“This cannot be good.” He returned his focus to Marquis up front.  

“Thank you all for being here all day today. We are ready to start our final defense presentation.” Marquis nodded to a young woman on his left who walked over and took the clicker from him.

When she turned around to address everyone, Erik gasped. It was her. He was looking at DeeDee. She pressed the clicker for her starting slide and began to speak.  

Erik took her in while she spoke. She definitely could not hide from him now. DeeDee was dressed in a burgundy and black houndstooth patterned pant suit with a burgundy blouse. It fit her very well, and he could make out her wide hips and the chest that prevented her from closing the blazer. He bit his lip to keep from making an inappropriate sound. Her dark curls were pulled back in a sleek low bun with loose tendrils hanging out. He hadn’t seen those glasses before, but the cat eye shape looked really cute on her. 

He tried to fully focus on what she was saying, but was glad that she asked him for advice a few weeks before. He would catch a word or two and know where she was. Erik continued his physical assessment of her while DeeDee’s presentation continued.

DeeDee was much shorter than he thought, but he loved the idea of her looking up at him or having to get on her tiptoes to kiss him. He smiled as her nose scrunched up while she spoke about environmental waste and how her study addressed it. He saw her infamous full cheeked smile when she answered questions from the panel and audience. 

When he was done getting his fill of her, he could hear the applause and she sat back down while the panel spoke amongst themselves.

He was so proud of her. She handled herself very well up there. And although he never expected to see her real presentation, he was happy to have been there. 

---

Everyone has walked to the front to congratulate DeeDee who was just told that she cleared her defense and that the panel was recommending the certification of her Ph.D.

DeeDee saw Beverly and Phyllis first. They both ran over to her, giving her hugs and praise. She smiled at her two friends.

“Thank you both for being here.”

“We wouldn’t have missed this for the world, hun.” Beverly spoke up for them.

DeeDee pulled away from them and headed over to Dr. O. He was standing next to a man in a nice black suit, who was a few inches taller than him. She tapped Dr. O on the shoulder, he turned back, saw it was DeeDee and gave her a hug. She pulled away and noticed that the gentleman next to him was staring intently at her. 

When DeeDee looked over, she saw very familiar short dreads with a shadow fade, a neatly trimmed beard and the same dimples that she had been dreaming about recently. It can’t be.

“Erik?” She breathily asked.

“In the flesh.” 

“What are you doing here?” 

“You know I came for Dr. Bell’s retirement party.” 

“Yeah, but I thought you would be here tomorrow or Sunday. But you are here. At my defense.” She stepped back to look up at him. 

“I am and it’s nice to meet you, Dr. Deidre Chabert.” He held his hands out.

She smiled brightly at him and walked forward into his arms. He engulfed her in a big hug. 

“Let me take you out to celebrate tonight.” Erik said into her ear. He looked over DeeDee’s head and saw the two women from earlier staring at them. 

“I would like that.” She mumbled into his chest.

“Good, go get your things.” 

She pulled out of his embrace and stared at her friends who were now behind her. DeeDee slid by them and went to get her things.

“So, how do you know DeeDee?” Beverly asked him cheerfully.

Phyllis just stared at him, arms crossed against her chest. DeeDee bounced back over to everyone with her bags.

“Hey guys, I want you to meet Erik.” 

“What? Mr. Note in the textbook? No way.”

“Guilty.” He replied.

“Do you mind if we get together to celebrate later this week or next weekend?”

“Sure sweetie.” Beverly spoke up. “Have fun, but not too much.”

“Yeah, we’ll see you later, Dee.” Phyllis gave her a half hug and stormed past her.

Beverly gave her a hug and walked out after Phyllis. 

“I have questions, but I’m gonna wait.” Dr. O turned to DeeDee, “You’re still coming over to go to the Christmas Festival with us tomorrow, right?”

“And miss an opportunity to see my favorite girl. Not a chance. Besides, I don’t think she will forgive me.”

“Great. Well, you two enjoy your evening.” Dr. O daps Erik, “I’ll see you tomorrow as well.”

“Definitely. Goodnight Quis.” 

Erik grabbed DeeDee’s things, “You want to leave your car here or drop it off at your place?”

“You can follow me home.”

He extended his arm as they walked out of the room, “Lead the way, Dr. DeeDee.”

“Don’t you start that mess.” She bumped him with her shoulder.

“Would you prefer Dr., Miss or Little?”

“Little?”

With his free hand, he grabbed her hand and intertwined their fingers. “You are much smaller than me.”

“I bet you like that, don’t you?”

“You have no idea how much.” He squeezed her hand.

“Watch it, Mr. Erik.”

“Or what?”

“I don’t know yet, but you will find out.” She returned the squeeze.

Taglist: @teakturn​ @ghostfacekill-monger​ @shaekingshitup​ @nahimjustfeelingit-writes​ @woahitslucyylu​ @ladymac82​ @bugngiz​ @eyeknowmywrites​ @ajspencer1892​ @arafatih​ @issimplyaamazinggg​ @tchallasbabymama​ @killmonger-fics​ @beautifullmelodyxx​ @raysunshine78​ @fd-writes​ @ljstraightnochaser​ @just-peachee​ @kaleidoscopeofsoul​

[ulalumewitch]

this was originally inspired by the prompt “The Pet” by @capriprompts … part 3 finally address the prompt proper and my version of it. hope you enjoy!

Author’s Note: This story deals with disappointments during the adoption process as well as references to parental deaths during childhood. Some readers may find this triggering. I hope I handled it with the care and sensitivity it deserves.

This is part 3 (and final part). The links to Part 1 and Part 2 are below:

https://ulalumewitch.tumblr.com/post/658329277505421312/betty-part-1

https://ulalumewitch.tumblr.com/post/658355318446800896/betty-part-1

(not sure why they both read “part 1” but i swear the second one is part 2. one day i’ll figure all this out - lol)

word count: 2,590

themes: angst and fluff

hope you enjoy - i just love these two.

“Betty: Part 3”

Damen frowned as he sat on a stool at the breakfast bar. He looked passed the living room and to the balcony. Autumn finally broke through the summer heat, but despite the chilly temperatures, Laurent had remained outside on the balcony. For over an hour.

He’d been there when Damen got home at dinner. Laurent refused to eat, stated he wasn’t hungry, and turned away from him. Damen didn’t push him. After eight years together he knew which battles to pick, and he knew if he picked this one, he would lose.

His stomach fluttered with nerves. Damen wanted to speak to Laurent about what was coming before it got here. He tapped his phone screen again. No new messages. Dammit, Jokaste.

The woman was always late. While he hated lying to Laurent these past few days, he felt it necessary. He’d never lied to him before and it wasn’t something he ever wanted to repeat. But he wanted this to be a surprise if only so that Laurent couldn’t argue himself out of it. This would be good for them. Damen was sure of it. Well ... mostly sure of it.

Damen opened up his text messages waiting for replies. The texts from the people he talked to most in his life waiting for responses he couldn’t muster himself to give at the moment.

Papa Theo - D. Kastor wants to host Thanksgiving this year. Don’t let him take over. You and Laurent are better hosts. I’m begging you. Do what you have to. If I have to eat salmon on crackers again instead of turkey because Jokaste thinks it’s en vogue or whatever her high snobby ass thinks, I’ll lose it. Thank you. Papa.

Auguste - Laurent keeps ignoring my calls. Everything okay?

Kastor - Bro, Knicks game next weekend?

Nik - Knicks game next weekend? Text Kas for info.

Nicaise - Tell Laurent to call Auguste before I kill them both.

Jokaste - I’ll text you once I’ve valeted with the package.

The text from Jokaste was from two hours ago. It was only a fifteen minute drive between their apartments. But Damen knew from experience if he pressured her she’d delay herself more.

But for the past few days Jokaste was oddly ... maternal. She’d listened without spewing unwanted advice and helped him find exactly what he wanted, pulling strings from a few of the charities she’d help fund over the years. He’d never been so happy she spent money and drank wine for a living.

His phone buzzed in his hand. Damen let out a shaking breath as the text from Jokaste finally came through: The eagle has landed. We’re on our way up.

Damen took a breath and replied back: Laurent is out on the balcony. Door is unlocked. If we’re still outside please wait in the office until I get you. He’s ... not himself right now.

Damen held his breath. It could go one of two ways with Jokaste. Either she would understand or she would say she was too busy and leave the surprise in the living room before walking out.

His phone buzzed: Ok

He let the breath he’d been holding out and resolutely walked around the breakfast bar and to the balcony. Damen opened the glass door and gritted his teeth against the blast of cold wind to his face. Laurent remained sitting in his chair, bundled up in a huge knit sweater, scarf, coat, and hat that left only his eyes visible. He didn’t move as Damen approached. Laurent didn’t even look at him.

Damen’s heart pounded in his chest. Did something else happen? Had he forgotten something important? He and Laurent never had a problem communicating until recently and it killed him. This had to end. And now.

“Laurent,” Damen said.

No movement. No glance of acknowledgement. Nothing.

The wind picked up and howled as if in warning from the gods themselves against the building. Damen grabbed a chair a swung it around directly in front of Laurent and then sat down. Two narrowed eyes of blue ice cut to Damen then.

“You’re blocking my view.”

“Laurent, I know this has been hard -“

“I’m not talking about this. Leave me alone.”

Damen took a breath. He was in a worse mood then he thought. Shit.

“Listen to me. Okay? Just listen.”

Laurent leaned back slightly and with a small flourish of his hand indicated for Damen to proceed before crossing his arms over his chest. Damen took a calming breath and looked away at the same view to steady himself.

“I don’t know how much you’re hurting, because I’m not you. But I’m hurting too. It’s difficult. It’s painful. It’s unfair, and ugly, and all of the things you hope to never experience,” Damen stated, “But we’ll get through this. We will have our family, Laurent. Yes, things are bleak right now but we can’t give up because somewhere out there is our son or daughter. Maybe they’re not born yet, maybe they are. But we don’t give up because that’s not what we do.

“We didn’t give up on each other. Hell, you spent your entire inheritance to start a firm with a man you weren’t even married to yet. You helped raise your younger brother when you were still technically a child yourself because the worst nightmare for children happened. You fought your way through school and internships all while spending hours volunteering with children’s programs when most of us in law school could barely keep up with the average demands. You are a fighter, Laurent. You can’t give up now. Please, don’t give up now.”

Laurent’s eyes flickered for a moment as he regarded Damen silently. He didn’t move a single muscle. He also didn’t respond.

Damen took in a shuddering breath, “I love you. I’m sorry life isn’t as we want it right now. I will keep fighting for it, but I need you with me.”

Laurent still looked at him with cool neutrality as he asked, “Where were you this week, Damianos?”

Damen’s heart lurched in his chest. Oh God ... Damen had known better than to lie to Laurent. But he did it anyway because he’d been giddy at the thought of the surprise now waiting for them in their apartment. Apparently Laurent’s foul mood had been exacerbated because of him. Goddammit this was not how he wanted this to go either.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

Damen cleared his throat, “I’m sorry I lied to you. But if you come inside I’ll show you why. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Laurent huffed, “I’m not in the mood for surprises or apologies. Now, leave me alone.”

“No.”

Laurent’s nostrils flared as he shot up and gracefully moved around him to the door. Damen cursed under his breath as he went after Laurent. Before he could think he caught his arm as they entered the living room.

“Let go,” Laurent growled.

“I was with Jokaste,” Damen surged ahead, “I needed her connections to get something for you and me to expand our family in a different way until our child comes home.”

Laurent stilled. Damen immediately let go of his arm.

Laurent turned, his blue eyes glittering with fury, as he hissed, “What did you do?”

Damen ignored the churning in his stomach and called out, “Bring her out, Jokaste.”

From the other side of the apartment the sound of heels clicking against the floor echoed around them. Then, Jokaste came into view. Her gold hair pulled back, her makeup made her look more devastatingly beautiful than was natural. Her designer clothes understated but somehow still reeked of money - and in her arms she held a basket with pink padding. And within that, a small puppy yipped happily, wagging her tail.

Damen looked at his husband. Laurent’s mouth hung slightly open, eyes wide and staring. Damen took a step closer to him until they were nearly touching but not quite.

Damen murmured, “She’s a King Charles Beagle mix. Her owners were older and couldn’t care for her so they put her up for adoption. She’s twelve weeks old, spayed, up to date on vaccines, and mostly housebroken. Jokaste put word out to the charities for animal adoption she’s helped fundraise for over the years, and then one of her connections emailed her about this beauty. I’ve been meeting with Jokaste to spend time with the puppy and then more recently to finish paperwork on her, as well as visit dog training centers and to research their puppy programs.”

He stopped. Laurent still didn’t respond, though he’d since closed his mouth, his eyes on the puppy in the basket. The white and tan puppy yipped excitedly seeming only to have eyes for Laurent. Damen’s chest ached slightly ... it was like she knew.

“I wanted to talk to you about it earlier but you needed time alone,” Damen whispered, “I’m sorry. I wanted it to be a little bit of a surprise but not this much. Also, if you don’t want her I understand. Jokaste will keep her instead so she’ll have a good home. But ... but I thought it would be nice for us to have a pet to take care of, to start expanding our family this way until ... until we can get what we want. She’s part beagle, so I imagine she’ll utterly lose her mind with happiness on the farm. But again, Laurent, if it’s too much, Jokaste will take her home, no questions asked. It’s up to you.”

Laurent swallowed and Damen heard his throat click as he did so. His face unreadable as he took a step towards Jokaste and the puppy. As he walked towards her, Damen stayed in place, but didn’t suppress the smile as the puppy began to yip louder, and bounced on her front paws the closer Laurent got to her.

“She’s high energy,” Jokaste murmured, “But she does love to cuddle. I think she likes you.”

Laurent remained silent as he brought his fingers up to the puppy. She immediately began to lick them, her tail wagging at such a rate Damen wondered if it possible for the thing to fly off of her. Then, tentatively, Laurent stroked her head. The puppy stopped bouncing but remained with her eyes on Laurent, tail wagging, as he pet her. Damen’s gut lurched as he saw the slight tremor in Laurent’s hand every time he lifted it up to resume stroking her down her back.

Then Laurent picked her up and held her against his chest. The puppy reached up and licked his face. Laurent pursed his lips together but Damen swore a smile was there before he was assaulted with puppy kisses. He cradled her against him, her fur a stark contrast against the black coat he still wore.

When she settled Laurent looked at Damen. He felt Laurent’s stare go through him and straight into his soul.

“Her name is Betty Rue Vere-Akielon,” Laurent announced.

Damen grinned, “Your obsession with the Golden Girls prevails once again.”

Laurent looked at the puppy and whispered, “They are fierce and so are you.”

The puppy licked Laurent’s face happily in response yipping gleefully. Damen cut his eyes to Jokaste and she smiled softly at him.

“I’m going to go,” Jokaste stated, “Have a good evening.”

“Thank you,” Damen said.

She dipped her chin slightly in acknowledgement and left. Damen walked over to Laurent and sat next to him as he set Betty on the ground. The puppy ran over both of their legs as Laurent removed his scarf and jacket, discarding both on the floor behind them.

“I’m sorry I lied to you,” Damen whispered.

Laurent cut his eyes to him before focusing on the puppy again, and said, “Forgiven. I’m sorry I gave you the silent treatment.”

Damen huffed a laugh, “No you’re not.”

A ghost of a smile appeared on Laurent’s lips and he said, “I missed having a dog. We had one when I was a little boy but she passed away just before our parents.”

Damen nodded and said, “They estimate she shouldn’t be more than twenty-five or thirty pounds. Both breeds are good with children. Training is a necessity. But, but I think she’ll fit in well.”

“She’s perfect,” Laurent cooed and picked her up again to hold her to his chest, and then looked at Damen, his smile finally wide and unrestrained, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Damen said, “I know this doesn’t fix anything, but I thought it would help.”

Laurent leaned closer to him and then pressed his lips softly to Damen’s. He closed his eyes and when Laurent went to retreat, grabbed the back of his head and kept their mouths firmly in place. Damen deepened the kiss, needing the contact, reveling in the taste of them together.

“I love you,” Damen whispered breathlessly, “I love you and I’m here for you. Through good times and bad.”

Laurent smiled softly, “I love you, too. Thank you for ... thank you.”

Damen slipped an arm around Laurent’s waist and pulled him closer. Laurent could talk circles around anyone. But when it came to expressing feelings, he still sometimes had difficulty. But Damen didn’t mind. Laurent loved Damen in ways that went well beyond the words, as it should be.

“Oops,” Laurent tittered, “Betty, darling, we must work on that bladder control. Come on, lets go for a little walk. Does she have a leash?”

Damen smiled, “Everything is stashed in the office, including a couple of different coats for her since it’s getting colder outside.”

Laurent snorted a little and stood up saying, “I’ll get her collar, leash, and coat on. You can clean up the mess.”

“Is that how it’s going to be?” Damen asked.

“Please tell me you bought her a collar and leash to distinguish her as the royalty she is and that it matches whatever clothing you got for her to wear,” Laurent called as he walked away from Damen without looking back or responding to his question.

Damen rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath before stating, “No, because I knew you’d hate anything I bought anyway.”

Laurent’s snort echoed as he made his way down the hall.

Damen smiled even as he cleaned up the puppy’s accident as he heard Laurent’s murmurs to the puppy, “Don’t worry, Betty, daddy is going to get you the most expensive collar, leash, and puppy coats money can buy. Papa doesn’t understand the importance of these things. What do you think pink with diamonds? Yes, I think so too ... or maybe a gold collar to compliment your white and tan coloring? Yes ... we’ll try a few on ...”

The pain of the rejection began to ease slightly in Damen’s heart. He knew it would take more time and more than a puppy for it to heal completely. But his gamble paid off and he reveled in the warm relief that coursed through his veins.

He and Laurent had work to do, but the dark cloud of anguish seemed to lift from over their heads. And as Damen put on his coat and grabbed Laurent’s from off the floor, he smiled as he walked down the hall as Laurent’s lament echoed loudly from the office, “Oh my God, was this made for peasant puppies? Nylon? Really?”

But Damen didn’t mind. He’d endure any cutting remarks on his sense of puppy fashion if it meant his beloved had a respite from his pain. Things weren’t perfect, but it was still a damn good place to be.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ End of this Little Story

thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed. They are one of the many ships I love to follow and write about. have a lovely day, morning, evening, night wherever you are! xo

[joshslater]

Five Step Program

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

I stared at the contents of the envelope, a blue jockstrap, and a folded piece of paper. I hadn’t put much hope into this “miracle solution” to becoming a jock without any of the work. Of course there was a catch. “First 20 customers get their first shipment free of charge” was enough for me to fill out the form with my information. It wasn’t anything too revealing. Name, address, height, weight, age. A box where you could write what you hoped to achieve with this revolutionary five step program. That’s what they really were after, I guessed. Having people enter their dreams so that they can tailor their next scam better. I was even surprised I got anything in the mail at all, and now having opened it, it made even more sense.

I could see how sending a jockstrap to someone perhaps fulfills some legal requirement that the recipient could now look like a jock. It could be a way to avoid getting a federal fraud charge. But I hadn’t spent a dime on this, so it didn’t make any sense. The jockstrap looked like any other jockstrap, I guessed. I’d never owned one, nor worn one. The pouch was dark blue and made with two layers of some synthetic mesh material. The big waistband was light blue with the letters JOCK repeated in dark blue around it. There was a faint smell of synthetic material and detergent. I did a mental sigh and opened the folded letter.

Congratulation on becoming one of our first customers on the revolutionizing five step Jock Express program. As a thank you for signing up, this first part is totally free of charge. Should you wish to continue the program, as we are confident you will after having successfully completed the first session, simply use the URL at the bottom of this page to enter your credit card information and we’ll send you the next item as soon as the payment is confirmed. I’m happy to inform you that we can offer a reduced price for the entire program, should you chose to start it within five days. The price is only $100 for the next installment, and progressively higher as you advance in the program. There is no commitment to purchase so you can stop the program at any point. We’re confident you will want to complete all the five steps in the Jock Express program.

Fuck that! What morons sign up to this kind of shit?

Instructions: The Jock Express is the easiest and most user friendly fitness program ever developed. Simply drink a lot of water, put on the items included in each program step, as you normally would, and go to sleep.

I was even more confused. Why would that sway anyone to put out $100 for at best another piece of gym clothing? I put it all in my in-tray on my desk and let it slip from my mind. I had dinner, watched TV, answered some late emails and the usual Tuesday stuff. By bedtime I walked past my home office and had the sudden recollection that I had something waiting in the in-tray. Then I remembered what it was, and almost reluctantly decided to go ahead with wearing the damn thing. I was still convinced it was a scam, but was immensely curious to exactly how it would work. If nothing else I would get to feel what wearing a jockstrap feels like. I drank a glass of water, put on the jockstrap, and went to bed. The jockstrap was as comfortable as anything and I quickly went to sleep.

Apparently I slept through the first alarm, and jolted awake on hearing the more incessant buzz from the phone. I jumped out of bed and it wasn’t until halfway to the bathroom I realized I was naked. I wouldn’t say massive, as in cartoonish in any way, but my dick and balls were noticeably bigger than before. It took a few seconds for my still startled brain to put the pieces together. The jockstrap had disappeared and somehow affected the body. It hadn’t replaced any body parts, I could still recognize my dick, but it was for sure altered. Suddenly $100 felt like way too little money. I didn’t even put any pants on as I typed in the URL from the letter. Jock Express step #2  for $100 and express delivery for another $25. Annoyingly no option to order all four remaining steps as a package. I just wanted to have them all in my house as soon as possible.

By the time I had entered all my details, checked all the boxes, and clicked the final webshop button I was rocking a massive hard-on. The biggest one in my life so far, by far. I didn’t care right then if I would come late or call in sick, I just knew that I had to take my pre-cum leaking enhancement for a test drive, and slowly started to move my hand up and down the shaft. It felt better than ever, and lasted longer than I have ever before. I’m not really sure how long, because I zoned out a bit while wanking, and then exploded with an epic load of cum. I managed to tilt the chair back and catch it all on my body, but then I felt really spent and dozed off, only to be brought back with a text message from my boss. Sick day it is, I decided.

A more apt description would be a lewd day. I just cycled between laptop porn, wanking and showers, and combinations thereof. I loved the difference it made when wearing underwear. Even when flaccid you could tell here was action waiting, not just only wearing underwear, but while wearing jeans too. I took photos so I had progress photos to compare with.

The next day was a strange one. I worked all day in the glow of someone with confidence, as if somehow I had done some achievement. I kind of surprised myself with how much of a difference it made when dealing with the pileup of emails from yesterday. Big dick energy. I could make decisions so much faster than I was used to. I don’t know if I really had more confidence, or just didn’t care as much. I was for sure giddy with anticipation of what was yet to come by overnight delivery. I forced myself to stay until official end of office hours and then bolted and drove straight home.

Thank God there was a DHL box in my mailbox, or I don’t know what I would have done. I opened it on my way in, and it’s contents were similar to the first one. A folded letter and some folded cloth. Without opening the letter I unfolded the cloth, which turned out to be a plain, sleeveless, white cotton T-shirt. Had there been someone to high five, I would have done so. I’m not fat, but there is a bit of flabbiness I would love to get rid of, so I couldn’t wait for this part. I felt anticipation in my stomach and something else in my pants. I hadn’t had a wank since this morning.

Evening couldn’t come soon enough. The letter said basically the same as the last one. A new URL for the $400 Jock Express #3, which I immediately ordered, again with overnight shipping. Not really sure what to kill time with, I figured a jock would watch sport, so I just randomly put some football on. I hadn’t really paid any attention to sports before, so I wasn’t sure about who was who, what the series looked like, or really what happened on the field besides the obvious. I ended up masturbating to the football, which in my opinion made it better. By 9:30 I decided to drink a few glasses of water, strip, put on the sleeveless T-shirt, and go to bed. I tossed and turned in anticipation for quite a while. The T-shirt had a very loose fit, and the big holes for the arms made it even more mobile, though it was anchored by the crew neck. Finally at some point I managed to fall asleep.

I woke up before the alarm. It was dark enough that I knew I hadn’t slept through them all. Instead of getting up or turning on the light, I just slowly moved my hand to my chest under the sheet. My chest was about the same size, but felt firmer, I imagined. But more importantly I was naked and the shirt was gone. I moved my hand down and couldn’t contain my joy when I started to feel the faint square of abs. I jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom to have a look in the mirror. The effect was better than I thought from just touch. My torso not only looked fit as a model, with abs and V and all, but younger and with better skin. Perhaps an illusion, but it almost looked like my dick was bigger as well.

Having woken up early, after a wank and a shower, I was one of the first in at the office and quickly got ahead on my tasks for the day. I still had the anticipation I felt yesterday, but today it was more like I knew what to expect. It wasn’t just a one-off or a fluke, this was legit and it was happening. As I started early I decided to flex out early and rush back home. I spent the drive home fantasizing about different types of clothing. I was kind of wishing for those sleeves they use in basket, to amp up my arms, but there might be some scientific reason why they changed the body parts in a specific order. Who was I kidding? This wasn’t science. This was magic.

I ripped open the familiar package as soon as I was inside the front door. This time it was white under armour legging of some sort, ending just below the knees. I was considering strip down fully naked and put on the leggings right then and there, and wear them until it was time to go to bed, but decided against it. Even though the descriptions were vague and didn’t really say you couldn’t do that, I didn’t want to risk fucking up the process. Instead I found some underwear in the same color as the jockstrap and took a pair of scissors to an old white T-shirt to make it look like the one I put on yesterday. Then I put on those, and nothing but, and sat myself in front of the TV, determined to actually try to follow the game this time, whichever game I happened to see.

It might be I imagined it, perhaps because I’ve never really seen myself in a sleeveless T-shirt before, but it looked to me like my arms were a bit more defined than yesterday. I realized that I had just assumed only the parts under the clothes are affected, but that’s just something I made up. It could be that it just primarily acts under the clothes, or perhaps it was just a coincidence and the clothes really could change anything. In the end I let it go. It didn’t matter, I couldn’t prove it either way, and I couldn’t watch a game, have deep thoughts and masturbate all at the same time anyway. I was so into it I almost forgot to order the next package. A steep $1000 for whatever the next item was, but so far it was fucking worth it.

I really liked how I looked in the 3/4 leggings or whatever the fuck they are called. Just imagining how much better I would look the morning after made me go to bed with a big boner, despite being thoroughly wanked. I tried to calm myself by thinking of the last game I watched, and not give Jock Express a thought, and it kind of worked. I know I fell asleep pretty quickly and dreamt of football until the alarm woke me up.

“Fuck yeah!” was the first I could think when I saw myself. The thighs were about as large as before, but the line going down them made it obvious they were muscles and not jiggle matter. It even felt different just standing. I’m almost positive my dick had grown even more. Who the hell wouldn’t dish out $400 or whatever for this shit?

While the day started great it quickly became frustrating with all the corporate bullshit. I knew how to do my job. There were just so many fucking rules in the way of doing it in the best way. Perhaps the anticipation of the second to last package made me be in a bad mood. Whatever. I bolted as soon as I could, cranked up the volume in the car, trying to not think of anything until I got home. I almost punched something when I opened the mailbox and didn’t find an envelope. Instead it was just a note about DHL attempted to deliver while I wasn’t home. I could either call them to deliver tomorrow or drive to a pickup point. Like fuck I would wait another full fucking day.

I was furious when I got back into the car, blasting music as loud as I could, but I quickly calmed down. Perhaps this was a good thing? It might be a box with shoulder pads from football or hockey or lacrosse or whatever the fuck else looks hot. You know what else is hot? Michael at the DHL pickup point. I mean, I’m not homo or anything, I’m just saying he was a good looking dude.

The packet he gave me was a bit disappointing though. No way it could contain anything as large as shoulder pads. I didn’t want to fuck with my mojo, so I kept the same routine as before and didn’t open it until back home. Fucking cleats and socks. Another fucking leg day. And they smelled bad too, like distilled vinegar or some shit. As I entered the URL from the letter on my phone I got two more shocks. The price of the last package was ten thousand fucking dollars! And even worse, the delivery wouldn’t arrive until Monday. Two fucking days away. “This is bullshit” I shouted at nobody and threw the empty cardboard box into the wall to no damage to either.

I was still furious and went straight to the fridge, pulled out a cold can of beer, opened it, and downed half of it. It felt better, but I was still upset on the world in general. I looked at the phone screen again. $10k is a fuckton of money. There wasn’t a rush to buy it right now either, if they didn’t do overnight delivery during weekends. I emptied the can and crushed it against the countertop. It hurt my hand, which just added to my anger for being such a weakling. I pulled the rest of the six-pack out of the fridge and threw it in the living room couch on my way to the bedroom. I needed to get out of these stuffy office clothes and cool down with a cold one, or four.

I ripped off the tie and started to unbutton the shirt on my way into the bedroom, and once there opened the door to my wardrobe. I felt like a girl, not knowing what to wear. I hated everything my eyes fell on, and I hated feeling like that. I bunched the shirt into a ball and threw it into a corner, together with the tie. I climbed out of the pants as quickly as I could and threw them there as well. Then I stopped myself.

Everything I saw I really liked, I realized. The pecs, the abs, the thighs, and the generous bulge in the boxer briefs.I yanked off my socks and more deliberately lowered my boxers to let the dick and balls loose. I knew what I wanted from this junk selection of clothes, and opened a drawer with my athletic clothes and pulled out a pair of grey sweatpants. It was Friday and my dick and balls deserved some freedom, I thought, as I put on the sweats without any underwear. I picked up the sleeveless T-shirt from the floor by the bed and put that on as well. I felt so much better. A few beers, whatever game was on, and some more wanking, and perhaps this could turn into a good evening after all.

After two more beers, cum stains on sweatpants, T-shirt and the couch, and fuck knows how many games I zapped through I couldn’t wait any longer. Whatever bullshit the cleats and sock did, the sooner it was over with, the sooner I could move on with the final package. $10k was still a lot, but if I sold all shares I could buy it, keeping both house and car.

The socks went almost up to the knees, but weren’t any real soccer socks or anything like that. The looked more like something someone might have to the gym, or something a skater would wear. Skater was perhaps right, because they smelled like that vinegary acidic smell of really sweaty skater shoes. The socks were white with a wide black band around it near the top, and were a bit off-white on contact surfaces around the foot, as if they had been used in black shoes by someone. As if I would fucking care. I pulled up both legs of the sweats over the knees and put on both socks, pulling them as high as possible. The cleats were black and a bit banged up, but fit perfectly on my feet. I didn’t even remember having given out my shoe size. I was unsure how tight to tie them, so I went with comfortable without being loose.

It felt weird walking with them, like the shoes were pushing your forward. Not at all like my much flatter leather shoes. Somehow my test walking ended up by the fridge, so I grabbed another six-pack and returned to the couch for some more ESPN or whatever.

I had no idea what sport it was on the screen, but glancing out the window I could see that it wasn’t evening anymore. I must have fallen asleep, I realized, but I felt way better than I ought to, given the pile of crushed beer cans around me. I walked to the toilet to have a piss, and it wasn’t until I lowered the front of my sweatpants to grab my morning semi-stiff snake I realized I was barefoot. I was pissing for probably a good minute, aiming down with one hand. Holy fuck so much I’ve kept in while sleeping. I was pretty sure I had cleats and socks on when I fell asleep. I did a few bounces on the balls of the feet. It felt fucking great, and shook loose the last drops of piss from my dick. I dropped it back into the sweatpants, and broke into a smile from how fucking huge of a tent it made, despite being just a semi. I did a few more jumps, looking at how the flagpole in my front swung up and down. I really didn’t deserve to feel this great after yesterday, but I’d fucking take it. I felt so full of energy I felt I could do anything. I wanted to run just to see how it would feel.

I dashed into my bedroom and emptied the rest of the athletic clothes drawer on the floor. Some T-shirts, a pair of basket shorts, white socks and wiped down indoor and outdoor shoes. All of it was underwhelming, outright disappointing. And why the fuck did I keep the shoes here and not by the door? I grabbed the outdoor shoes and without bothering with socks started to mash my foot into it. It was clearly at least one size too small, perhaps several. Who the fucks know how shoe sizes work. I threw both shoes into the wall above my pile of office clothes. Fucking hell. Why do all days start out great and then go downhill so fast, I wondered.

I grabbed a pair of flip flops, the car keys, and pulled the credit card out of the wallet and walked out to the car. The car stereo startled me when I turned the ignition key, as it blared out some hip hop at max volume. I reached to turn it down, but changed my mind. It felt like my mood, as I was driving to my closest mall almost below speed limit. There wasn’t much traffic out anyway on a Saturday morning. As I turned into the almost empty parking lot in front of the mall I realized the fucking God damn shit mall would open for another 40-something fucking minutes. I wished I could turn up the music louder.

As I looked down on the cum stains on my shirt and tenting sweats I decided why the fuck not, and started to beat off in sync with the music.

40-something fucking minutes later I entered the sporting goods store in the mall. Johnson’s or Dick’s or Willy’s or whatever, I don’t care. I picked up some proper compression clothes, like the leggings I had earlier with a matching top. I got myself some outdoor Nike’s, a few proper tanks, some jocks, boxer shorts and socks, new flip flops, and a snapback cap. On the way to the cashier I decided to pick up a wooden baseball bat and a regulation size football as well. Back in the car I ripped off all the stickers and shit and put on something I could run in. The sneakers, jockstrap and shorts, a tank top, and the snapback. I left the car and just ran.

It was a revelation. The first time I tasted ice cream or coca cola, or the first time I discovered I could do something else with my dick besides peeing and hitting it too hard. I felt like a good damn terminator. Like as long as I kept the pace below sprinting I could run for hours. Trickles of sweat running down my face, my arms, my back, wetting the fabric of my clothes where it could, cooling the skin with the breeze my motion generated where it couldn’t. I have no fucking idea how long I actually run. When I finally ended up back in the car I was steaming and real fucking hungry.

I felt like a shower was in order, but I was too hungry to do that first. I went by Five Guys and had a bacon cheeseburger with fries and a peanut butter milkshake. As I started eating I realized I wasn’t anywhere near tired. It was probably enough running for today, but I wanted to do more. Halfway through the meal I decided I would visit the gym we had a company membership at. I had only been there a few times since the introduction walkthrough. I wasn’t even sure I had the card in my wallet anymore, or if it was in the bowl of stuff in the kitchen.

I made a quick stop at home, unloaded my car, found the card, and set off to the Pacific Wellness Center. The dude in the lobby had a pissy attitude and asked me if I was wearing indoor shoes. I asked him what they looked like, and he let me in. Such a shame, because he was kind of good looking.

Inside the gym the results were mixed. Squats, lunges, planking, and abductor machine all went excellent. It was fun, even. But everything involving arms went miserably. I could only lift a pathetic load, and after a few reps I would be tired. I even embarrassed myself in front of two massive gym buddies. One of them had amazing arms. You could see how strong they were even when he wasn’t lifting, but fuck me what beautiful ‘ceps when loaded. And tanned too. It was lucky I had the jockstrap on, because that body was smoking hot.

I could only stand a few more failures after that and then sped back home, still with hip hop at max, in a mix of emotions. I got naked on the way to the bathroom, and there I spent perhaps an hour in the shower, getting the grime and sweat off me, and wanking twice, thinking of the arms of the hot dude. As I dried myself on a towel I knew I had to buy the last package. Ten fucking thousand fucking dollars. I had to use the laptop to access my bank, and once I had put in the sell order for my stock portfolio I saw the pornhub tabs I hadn’t looked at since Wednesday.

The big-busted bimbos I had wanked my way through the Wednesday suddenly didn’t seem as interesting. I clicked around a bit until I found a muscle stud fucking a Latino girl. How quickly the taste can change, but except for pathetic arms, I’m was now the muscle stud. I quickly entered the URL from the Jock Express #4 box and ordered the last package. The delivery date was still Monday, so come Tuesday the muscle stud would be me. Only one fucking week.

Since I was out of beer I threw on my old shorts and a T-shirt, and had a walk to my nearest convenience store and bought one six-pack for each hand. I was feeling a bit stiff from the training, but it was much better than it ought to be.

As I opened the door back at home the warm smell of gym clothes, sweat, and feet hit me. I did the responsible thing and threw everything in the washing machine, opened a beer, and started to watch whatever was on.

Sunday was just a boring-ass filler day. I woke up at a decent time, had a long run. I passed through the park, but didn’t engage with any of the groups playing football or beach volley there. I could wait two more days to get my arms sorted. I did some cleaning up and domestic shit back home. Then I went to the gym again, but this time I pretended it was leg day, so I didn’t have to embarrass myself. After dinner I had an evening jog as well, and only had a few beers before bedtime.

Same thing on Monday. Woke up pretty early and went for a long run. When I was almost back home I got a text message from my boss, saying we needed to talk about my performance over the last few days. My answer “Suck my balls” probably summed up the conversation much better than any in-person meeting. I found that the best way to find porn with muscle studs in them was to search in the gay section. Just because you like to watch big arms and strong backs doesn’t make you homo. I jacked off to the videos until it was time to eat lunch. By 2 pm I was climbing on the fucking walls in anticipation, and every minute felt like too long. Perhaps it wouldn’t arrive today at all? I heard the mailman at 2:18 and rushed out wearing only shorts and snapback.

The mailbox was stuffed full with a big, soft envelope. I tore it open on my way back inside, kicked the door shut, and emptied the contents on my kitchen table. A big black something fell out, as well as something small that rattled across the table. Ignoring the letters, as usual, I unfolded the cloth. It was a big, black hoodie in sweatshirt material, with the print “STRONG” on the front. Finally arms! I picked up the small plastic box that almost fell off the table and opened it. It contained some sort of advanced mouthguard mad in blue, white, and transparent plastic of different hardness and flex. The kind that football players use.

Not knowing what to do next, I went to the gym and spent a few hours just randomly doing low weight, high rep stuff. I was trying to catch a glimpse of everyone else who worked out to see what their arms and legs looked like. Once I felt it was too obvious I wasn’t doing anything serious I drove home, but instead of going inside I started to walk and walked for hours just looking. It felt good just to be in motion. I didn’t return back until the sun started to set, and it was almost fully dark when I walked through the door.

I decided to just go ahead with the last piece of transformation. I stepped out of my sneakers and pulled off my damp socks. It didn’t smell of strawberries. I pulled off the T-shirt and stepped out of the basket shorts, but kept the compression shorts on. I grabbed the hoodie from the table and put it over my head. Perhaps it was me, but it smelled of musky sweat inside while I put it on. I poured myself a big glass of water and downed it.

I walked with the small plastic box to the bathroom and had a look in the mirror. I didn’t really look that different. The big hoodie hid my newly athletic front. The legs and feet looked strong, but who ever notices that? My big bulge in the compression pants was however a change from the past week that couldn’t easily be hidden. I opened the box and put the mouthguard into my mouth. It fit snugly and didn’t change my appearance much either. Not knowing what to do with the hoodie I put it up over my head and pulled it tighter with the drawstrings so all but my face was gone. Then I turned off all the lights and went to bed.

It was still dark when I woke up. Instantly I knew it had worked, because I couldn’t feel the mouthguard in my mouth, though it felt different. As if the ghost of the mouthguard was still there, prying my mouth open. I felt some sort of pressure on my head, as if I was wearing a hat or a beanie or something. I was about to feel my head when I realized moving my arm felt different. Not wanting to fuck around any longer I went straight to the bathroom again to have a look in the mirror. I stared at my reflection with open mouth. The difference was breathtaking.

First of all I wasn’t wearing any top, so my abs and pecs were on full display, but they were also bigger than before. Everything was bigger. My shoulders were much bigger, my entire upper body looked wider than before, and everything about the arms were huge. My face was still my face, but there were lots of small changes. “Fucking dope” I said with a much deeper voice than what I had before. I smiled a smirk and flexed the arms in different poses. I couldn't wait to show up at the gym doing an arm day. I just needed to have another shower. My dick needed service, and I felt sluggish, as if I hadn't really wakened up yet.

[heckfick]

Part one

The first call.

Word count:2k+

Pairing:Y/N x Feitan

Warnings:Swearing, mentions of death.

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Y/N sat in her chair, silently leaning against the back of it. She stared blankly at the monitor before her, her mind utterly blank. Her father, her partner in crime, was out at the time and training didn't sound too pleasing at the moment. And, dispite having the surface, deep, and dark web all at her disposal, things got rather boring quickly. The same old drama, government files, and red rooms just weren't appealing anymore.

So, she sat there, staring at her setup. "Wonder what dad is picking up at the store." She thought, scanning her desk for a moment before grabbing her water bottle and twisting the cap off. "Our next client better be interesting at the very least." She hoped. She brought the plastic to her lips, taking a swig of water. When her and her father got a client, she was in charge of planning, and she wasn't always planning the same thing.

On occasion they were hired to be a bodyguard, occasionally an assassin. The jobs varied, there were some that they just wouldn't take and others that they were more than happy to do. Y/N was in charge of finding out the details, helping her father understand what was to be done, and she was the one to come up with what would be done. Of course, if they ever worked for a celebrity then she would tag along. Just to meet them, maybe get their autograph or a couple of pictures. She was more than capable to handle their business all by herself, though. She was strong and smart, talented in what she did.

Her father, however, wasn't able to work by himself. He needed an idea of how things were going to happen, it was just who he was. The more detailed the plan, the calmer he was and without any idea at all, he panicked. He was really the only one she had, so she stuck with him. She worked to keep things in check, and he reeled in clients and handled most of the dirty work.

These were the thoughts that crossed her mind as she zoned out, snapping out of her trance only when she heard the door open. "Speak of the devil!" Y/N shouted, even though she hadn't been actually speaking.

"We have a client!" He boomed, clearly happy.

She grabbed the arms of her chair, standing up to help him put away whatever he had gotten. "Really? Who is it?" She asked, curious as she walked out of her room.

"Come here, I wanna see your reaction." She rolled her eyes at this, knowing that he knew she was on the way. Nevertheless, she picked up the pace until she was in the kitchen.

She walked over, grabbing one of the bags that he set on the counter, digging through it and grabbing a loaf of bread out of it. Her curiosity was now peaked, she saw her father smiling wildly out of the corner of her eye, he was just staring at her. "Well?" She asked, turning her head to look at him better.

He was silent for a moment, it was clear that he was ecstatic, almost bouncing off the walls. "The Spiders." He said, there was a pause, but then she laughed.

"You really shouldn't mess with me like that." She giggled. The Phantom Troupe needing their services? What a crazy idea.

"I'm not fucking with you, they want our help taking out some bodyguards." He explained. She had never seen him this happy.

"You're serious?" She asked, he nodded. "The Troupe." She murmured, trying to take it in. "The Troupe." She said louder, finally getting grasp of the situation. "We're working with the fucking Phantom Troupe!" She screamed, immediately dropping the bread and wrapping her arms around her fathers neck, nearly crying with joy.

He spun her around, as if she were still a little girl and not an adult serial killer. They were excited for two different reasons, Y/N had always admired the Phantom Troupe, their witt, strength and ability to get a job done was almost unbelievable. F/N was excited for the opportunity, if they did well, then a group as well known as the Phantom Troupe recommending them was good for getting business. Dispite their different reason for being happy, they still spun in the kitchen.

He eventually bumped into the counter, however, causing them to stop. They let go of eachother, both of their faces still as happy as ever. "I told the man I talked to to email you, it was about a hour ago. As if on cue, one of her monitors let out a noise that signaled she had a notification.

"And your sure it's them?" She asked, just wanting one last assuring word so she didn't get her hopes up for nothing.

"You know I have my ways of making sure people are the real deal, now go answer him, he said that we'll move out in three weeks so make a good impression!" He said, turning around and continuing to unload groceries.

She turned as well, heading towards her bedroom. She had been with dozens of clients, each and everyone leaving some sort of impression. Very few flirted with her, which she didn't find surprising. This was a professional job, and they didn't offer those kinds of services, although many had asked. An unpleasant thought then popped into her head. "What if the one I talk to is a pervert?"

What if he flirted, would she flirt back? No, she was professional, and while connections did mean alot, almost everything. She wouldn't go as low as to going out with someone just for work. That's something she told herself after she reached eighteen, she didn't care who it was, she wouldn't do that just for work.

So, if he was a pervert, she was fully prepared to ignore it. As she entered her room, the notification was on the screen still. So, she sat down and clicked on it. Her thoughts had ruined the mood she was in, almost instantly.

Blue apple. Hot pink watermelon

This was the message that her father told whoever was on the other end to send, it confirmed that she was talking to the same person and not just a random person who thought it would be funny to email her. With each client came a different secret message, they were all random and some were rushed, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was that these helped.

Keep your fruit! For I have a lock of hair!

Be careful, for I only offer you one strand.

Y/N sent this message, followed by a link that would send him to her website, where he would have to enter yet another secret code that her father gave him. It didn't matter if he changed his account, the website wouldn't pop up anymore if he got it wrong he only had one chance. So, if he wanted to try again, he would have to go out and get an entirely different device.

On the same note, if he got it right, then as long as he stayed on whatever device he was using, he wouldn't have to enter the code ever again. She clicked on the link, her screen immediately changed. The website had a dark theme, it was simply easier on her eyes when she had to work late at night. She kept her eyes on the welcome back message, reading it even though she already knew what it said. There wasn't alot on her mind, now that her one main worry had taken over her mood, she thought of this as another job. Until she had talked to the man, just to make sure he wouldn't hit on her or anything of that nature, she decided to stay calm.

Y/N put on her headset, crossing her legs while in the chair.

She made sure that it was plugged in, adjusting the mic so that it was in front of her mouth. She just waited, staring at the screen for about a minute before a small rectangle popped up at the bottom, informing her that she was getting a call. She moved her mouse, hovering over the accept button for a moment, putting on a welcoming smile before clicking.

There was a few seconds of silence, as she scanned her face on her side of the screen to make sure she was looking half decent.

"Hello," she said, pausing as her gaze drifted over to the other side of the screen. "My names Y/N." She quickly took in his features, black hair that seemed wet. Maybe he just got out of the shower, or it could have been raining where he was. He seemed to be scowling, but she wasn't judging. Most of the time business made her grumpy, too.

"Feitan." He said, his voice sounding a little raspy.

"Nice to meet you, will there be anyone else joining the call?" She asked.

"No. I'll relay all of the information to to the others." He explained, leaning back onto the wall behind him. A dark hoodie and what she could only make out to be sweatpants were his clothing of choice, making her feel a little better about wearing a t-shirt and shorts.

She nodded. "Okay, got it. Would you mind explaining the operation?" She leaned forward, grabbing her binder and opening it, picking up the pen that simply laid inside.

"There's a man, he has some stuff we want. So we're going to go take it. He's said to have some skilled bodyguards. I'm sure we would have been able to handle it but Shalnark heard of you and wanted to see if it was worth what people paid for your work." Such a vague description,

"Mhm, could you give me a idea of where it is?" She ignored the last bit, not really caring why they were hired.

"Somewhere out east. It's called Bog Mansion."

She nodded, quickly jotting down this information. "Okay and now I'm going to need some info on the abilities of everyone whose going to be working with us." She prepared to start writing, but what she was asking for wasn't given to her.

"Why would I tell you that?" He questioned.

"I need to plan, that's the whole point of this call. I'll get and gather information, then I'll come up with a plan so you don't have to." She explained.

He considered it, eventually sighing. "I trust the person who wanted to hire you, but since it was his idea I'll leave it up to him to go kill you if you give our information away."

Y/N wasn't fazed, everything was classified of course, that's why she wrote everything on paper and not electronically. If it was stored electronically, you can never tell who has a hold of it even if you think it is only visible to you. "Would you like my address? Hell, I'll gladly deliver myself on a silver platter if I sell you out, of course I never will but still."

This caused Feitan to smile for whatever reason. "Okay, how about you tell me your ability as well. Your father already told me his so don't bother."

"Oh, my ability? It's nothing special I call it Satan's Zoo, and I just make animals with my aura. I have a pole that I use for close range fighting but it's in my closet somewhere." She glanced over to the closet in question. "Of course how many animals I make and the size of them both effect each other, but I can also modify animals it's a little difficult but I think I've gotten pretty good at it."

He took this in, being silent for a little bit as if he was thinking of what to say next. After about a minute he spoke up. "Will you be coming with your father with at a job?" He asked.

She was slightly taken back, of all things she expected him to ask this wasn't one of them. "Yes, I'd like to meet in person so I'll be tagging along."

"Then I would like to fight with you before we go to Bog Mansion." Feitan said calmly.

This was definitely unexpected, it left her speechless. A Phantom Toupe member thinking that she might be worth fighting? This was an odd honor.

"Your ability intrigues me." He said, perhaps trying to carry the conversation after seeing her speachless. "I'll try my best not to kill you. But I'd like to see your ability I person while your fighting against me rather than running into you in the mansion." He explained and all of a sudden her excitement returned.

"Really? You think I'm worth fighting?" Y/N asked, still star struck.

"Why do you sound so happy? I could kill you by mistake." He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I've looked up to the Phantom Troupe for a while. The pure strength that all of the members posses is amazing and I strive to be like all of you. Fast, efficient and good at what I do." She was smiling from ear to ear, making no effort to hide her happiness.

Feitan seemed like an okay guy, focused on business from what she had seen so far.

"Your strange." He commented. "I've never met a Phantom Troupe fangirl." He snickered, but she wasn't insulted.

"Well now you have, maybe you should release merchandise I'm sure there are people who would buy it." This caused him to laugh again, and this time Y/N joined him.

"Anyway, back on track." She said. "Go on ahead and start explaining everyone's abilities and such please." She readied her pen, excited to fill up her page full of information about her favorite group of thieves.

—————————————————

A single page wasn't able to contain all of information. It took at least a full page front and back for each member, sometimes more. With five members the exact number of pages came down to eight pages front and back. Her wrist was used to writing nowadays, but this was the closest it had come to hurting in a while. It was almost overwhelming how much Feitan knew about his teammates. Although, the more she knew the more solid the plan could be but still.

"Well, I have to say Shizuku's ability seems most interesting." She commented, closing the binder. "But I would also like to see your umbrella." She said, sighing as she closed the binder, leaving the pen inside. "I'll do some research and see if I can get a layout of the building and some intel on the bodyga-" while sitting her binder down she removed her eyes from the screen for a split second, and in that split second he was gone.

"Uh, Feitan?" She asked. It was only a moment before he moved back into frame with the umbrella. He sat back down onto the bed, grabbing the handle and actual umbrella before pulling a few inches of the concealed weapon out.

"Wow! That's actually really cool." She said, staring at it for a moment. "Did you just have it laying around?"

He closed it, placing it beside his bed. "Yes, it's best to have a weapon close to you when theres people out for your head."

"Has anyone actually tried to assassinate you?" She asked, wondering who might be stupid enough to try and kill a member of the Troupe.

"A few, unfortunate souls down on their luck. I'm guessing that people have a pretty high bounty on us." He sighed, crossing his arms. "What about you?" He asked.

"Well, people have actually sent some pretty skilled assassins after me. Thankfully, no ones sent in the Zoyldic family yet!" She joked, placing a finger inbetween her two collarbones and starting to trace down. "A man with a sword actually got me right through here." She continued to trace the old scar, moving down until right below her chest, where it curved to the left. "I beat him, of course but he left me with a pretty nasty scar." Her hand returned to her arm rest.

"Now that I I've told you our abilities, what now?" He asked.

She dreaded her next sentence. Talking to him was actually more pleasant than most of her clients, so this would be a little more difficult to let go. "Well, you call me around this time tommorow and until then, I get to work! I'll figure out everything I can and use what knowledge you've given me to make a plan!"

Feitan pursed his lips. "Okay I guess."

"I'll talk to you later, just message me if you have any questions!" She smiled. "Goodbye!"

"Bye." And just like that the call was over.

Y/N grabbed up the binder, opening it up to a new blank page. She needed to impress him, get a good word in with the Troupe and she might be able to work with them again! This was so exciting. So, as her heart pounded in her chest, she got to work on figuring out everything she could about Bog Mansion and the people who lived within it.

[sonderwalker]

OKAY YOU GET A PROMPT TOO

“you’re a little mixed up right now. ” from the fever prompts

❤️❤️❤️

aaaaaaaaa i actually had to think about what to write for this one but i have thought of something, so yay! it’s a continuation of your drabble that I requested from you, which you can read here and it’s from this prompt list!

It was now the end of the week, and Obi-Wan sat at his desk, scrolling through his emails. The sun was lower in the sky, telling that soon evening would be here, despite the fact that it was only just past four in the afternoon.

The windows of his office were closed, but he could still feel a chill coming through. The weather for the entire week had been cold and wet, teetering on snowing, and then would be just warm enough to rain during the day. Only for it to freeze over at night.

And while the weather annoyed him, it didn’t concern him. What concerned him was ever since that last email from Anakin, he hadn’t heard anything from him. And while part of him was saying that this was because he wanted his sweater back, another larger part of him could not deny the concern that had slowly beginning to build as the week progressed, and he still heard nothing.

He knew that the flu was nothing to joke about, and there had been a particularly bad strain that was circulating around the campus, causing several of his own students to end up in the hospital.

He refreshed his email, doing the best to put the thought of Anakin in the hospital out of his mind.

And his eyes widened when he saw a new email in his inbox- not from another student trying to explain why their paper was late, but it was from Anakin, who for the first time in four days, had responded.

He quickly opened the email, clicking on it several times and trying to ignore the way his heart seemed to beat a little faster in his chest as he did so.

‘Sorry for not responding sooner, I’m still pretty sick’ It began, and Obi-Wan immediately felt his heart sink into his chest, the guilt slowly building up from even asking Anakin when he could meet up to get his sweater back.

‘I think I’ll be feeling well enough tomorrow if you want to stop by my place and pick it up? I probably shouldn’t be going out.’  Anakin suggested, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help but smile here. Anakin was a selfless person, almost to a fault most of the time, and while at times it was frustrating, it was also at other times endearing. And this was one of those times.

‘Here’s my address, and my number. Text me when you’re outside!’  And that was the end of it. Obi-Wan stared at the numbers on the bottom of the screen, blinking several times. 

And while he had intended to ask Anakin for his personal contact information at some point, he didn’t intend to get it like this. And while he wasn’t upset at the fact that this was how he got it, he was concerned that perhaps Anakin felt pressured to return the sweater. As far as Obi-Wan was concerned, Anakin could keep it for as long as he liked, especially if he was still as sick as he was saying.

But he also had to consider that Anakin probably would not see and respond to another email in time for Obi-Wan to tell him that it was more than alright that he keep the sweater until he felt better. That he didn’t mind at all, and that he was happy that Anakin was getting some use out of it.

His eyes scanned over the phone number at the bottom of the screen again, before slowly pulling out his phone and entering it as a new contact.

It felt strange.

On the surface, there was nothing strange about what he was doing, but it felt strange in his heart, and he didn’t want to think about why. Not yet, at least.

But it was now the next day, and Obi-Wan found himself staring down at a map on his phone, the destination being Anakin’s apartment building. It was close to the campus, and located where he knew a lot of students lived. There were also professors that lived in the nearby neighborhood, and so it was a place that Obi-Wan was familiar with.

The building was only a ten minute drive from where he currently was, which was not his own residence, but a convenience store. He had told himself, that if Anakin was going through all of this trouble to return the sweater despite still clearly being unwell, the least he could do was show up with something nice in return.

Which is how he found himself purchasing some cold and flu medicine, and a box of tea that he was surprised that they carried, but knew that he always enjoyed drinking when he felt unwell.

Grabbing the bag that the cashier placed them in, Obi-Wan quickly walked back out of the store and continued on his way.

‘I’m outside.’ Obi-Wan typed out but then deleted it. He didn’t want to be too blunt, be he also didn’t want to appear vague. He looked down at the empty message bubble and sighed, watching as his breath turned into a cloud of vapor in front of his face.

‘Hello Anakin, It’s Obi-Wan, and I am outside of your building.’  Was that too formal?

He hit send.

It was probably too formal. Obi-Wan groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.

He stood out in the cold, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, trying his best to not worry too much. People came and went into and out of the building, but there was no sight of Anakin. 

And when their was, Obi-Wan felt a mix of emotions.

First was the initial rush of seeing Anakin that always happened, which was quickly replaced by a frown as he noticed that if anything, Anakin looked worse now than he had at the beginning of the week. He had traded in his thin hoodie for a thicker one, and had the hood pulled over his head. Jeans were replaced by thicker lounge pants, but he was still wearing the same sneakers that he had worn when Obi-Wan last saw him.

Bundled under one arm was the sweater that Obi-Wan had lent him, and the other arm had been brought up towards his face as he coughed harshly into his elbow.

“Sorry this took so-” Anakin began, his voice raspy as he opened the door for Obi-Wan to walk inside.

“You can keep it.” Obi-Wan found himself saying before he had the chance to think of anything else.

“What?” Anakin asked, his voice cracking. He turned aside to cough again before facing Obi-Wan.

“You need it more than I do,” Obi-Wan pointed out, trying to stay as cool and collected as possible.

Anakin blinked at him several times before running a hand over his face.

“I thought you said you wanted it back?” He asked again before turning away to sneeze.

“I did, but had I known that you were still this sick earlier, I wouldn’t have bothered.” Obi-Wan replied with a shrug.

“But... you wanted it back?” Anakin asked again, narrowing his eyes and now Obi-Wan didn’t know if he should laugh or if he should be concerned.

“You seem a little mixed up right now, Anakin.” Obi-Wan noted as he rested a hand on Anakin’s shoulder.

He could feel how Anakin was both trembling and radiating too much heat at the same time. They both stared at each other for a moment, before Obi-Wan let go of Anakin, handing him the bag that was in his other hand.

“And you sound like you could use what’s in here,” Obi-Wan said as Anakin took the bag and opened it.

“You didn’t have to get me all of this,” Anakin whispered hoarsely, looking down at the contents of the bag.

“On the contrary, Anakin you sound horrible.” Obi-Wan replied. 

“And I have had several students already end up in the hospital because of this strain of the flu, so I do in fact, think that you needed at least something.”

“Thanks,” Anakin whispered, looking back up at Obi-Wan and smiling softly. But the moment was ruined when Anakin turned away to cough again, and Obi-Wan winced at how it sounded.

“Alright, I think it’s time you head back to bed.” Obi-Wan said after Anakin was done.

Anakin rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face. “Thanks again,” He said softly, crossing his arms over his torso as the door behind them opened, letting in more cold air.

“Think nothing of it, I just want you to get better,” Obi-Wan replied while waving his hand.

“I’ll see you next week?” Anakin asked as Obi-Wan turned to leave.

“Only if you’re well enough to be back, otherwise I will not hesitate to have you go home, as much as I enjoy your company.”

“You enjoy my company?” Anakin asked while sniffling several times.

“Yes, and as much as I’d love to stay and talk, I can see that you’re shivering, and should probably be back in bed.” Obi-wan pointed out. 

“But can we talk later?” Anakin asked, his tone cautious but hopeful.

“When you’re better, we can talk.” Obi-Wan replied, before turning to leave again, feeling the cold winter air contrast the burning of his cheeks.

What was he thinking?

[shypotato-translations]

QTVW Chapter 20

Showbiz* Sexy Queen (VII)

----

Mei Mu Lan frowned after hearing the system beep, it seemed that she now had another hidden task to solve the travelers in addition to the main task of raiding the villain.

It's not clear exactly what the definition of 'resolution' is, but according to the novel's plot, everything should change soon after.

Because the beginning part of the novel was caused by the death of the original owner Mei Mu Lan in a car accident, the description of the female lead Bai Jieying at that time was still just an innocent-looking girl with an upright personality, and her clean temperament attracted the attention of the male lead Ling Tianye.

And the next step was to come and audition for the supporting female role in the cast of 《The Burial Man》, only to be eliminated by the director and others.

Three days later, when she agreed to become the male lead's mistress, she returned to the production with the help of the male lead, and her acting skills were suddenly recognized by everyone, and she played the role of the enchanting undercover female agent in 《The Burial Man》, thus starting her acting career as the "Queen of Variety".

So it seems that if this travelers really entered the novel, then the time she crossed over was within these two days.

Mei Mu Lan rubbed her brow, feeling troubled, if her task was to face a simple and proud Bai Jieying, it would not be difficult to deal with her.

But now it was obvious that she was about to face a traveler who had also entered the virtual world from the real world, and there was no way for Mei Mu Lan to treat such a woman as an NPC in the virtual world, and……

Even for travelers, there are different types, and she knew absolutely nothing about this travelers' situation. And this traveler, upon entering this world, immediately grasps the key character, Ling Tianye, and she picks a script and a cast of characters that are complex and widely loved.

It is clear from here that she is a book-traveler who also knows what is about to happen in this world.

Mei Mu Lan groaned and grumbled in anguish as she thought of this, the traveler she needed to solve for this hidden mission was someone who was an even match for her, and according to the system ranking, such a traveler at present was actually only her beginner mission target, so she dared not imagine what kind of difficult characters she would encounter in her next crossover missions.

She let out a long sigh and thought, "No matter what, she has to find a way to monitor Bai Jieying's every move, be the first to get a head start, wait for an opportunity, and then take her out.

After Mei Mu Lan made her plans, she hired a high priced private detective to investigate and film Bai Jieying's actions and compile them into a case to her newly built email address while she was 'obsessively showing love' to Ling Yi Yao.

Every day after she came home from studying on set, she would open her emails and browse through Bai Jieying's investigation routine.

On the first day, an email came in showing that Bai Jieying and a major shareholder of a giant entertainment company went to a hotel room together, entering at 10pm that night and leaving intimately at 6am the next morning, holding hands.

The next day's email showed that Bai Jieying and the major shareholder had gone to a lounge that only senior members of society could enter, and that in the evening Bai Jieying had left hand in hand with the director of another major film being shot.

On the third day, an email came in showing that Bai Jieying, drenched in rain, had bumped into Ling Tianye with a messy face and the two of them had gotten into Ling Tianye's car hand in hand.

When Mei Mu Lan saw this message, her heart thumped.

She moved her mouse and dragged the email down to see the photo of Bai Jieying, who, although wet from the rain, didn't look at all disheveled, but rather because her clothes were wet against her body, exposing her youthful yet mature figure, and her expression was so charming that one wanted to hold her in one's heart and love her as soon as one saw her.

But she looked at Ling Tianye with pride and stubbornness in her eyes, like a cheetah that is always full of life and vitality, making people want to trample on her stubbornness and squeeze her in their hands.

Mei Mu Lan drew a cold breath, from this photo alone, one could feel that this woman was not simple, she was too high up the ladder.

Mei Mu Lan frowned and muttered,

“Here we go, here we go, the travelers are coming.”

She clicked on the photo with her mouse and displayed it in full screen, then stared at the woman and after some careful analysis, she found that she could not see, at all, the true feelings of this woman, and if she had not been wary of this traveler, then she would probably have been upset at the moment she saw the photo.

And with the way things are going today, she's going to meet this traveler tomorrow on the set of the film.

That makes exactly three days.

So now, now that the target traveler has appeared, the next thing she has to do is to find this woman's weakness and finish her off.

As she expected, Ling Tianye once again appeared on the set with this woman, and just last night, the innocent girl who was originally playing another tomb raider family had a very serious car accident on her way home, her whole face was ruined, and she is now completely unable to play this role.

And Ling Tianye, now bringing Bai Jieying to the set, is to send this woman into this production in the name of the investor.

Director Wang Ye is in an unhappy mood, he can see from the events of the previous days that this woman, is definitely not as innocent as she appears, but his best friend Ling Tianye is totally the man who listens to the brain from the lower part of his waist.

This time Ling Tianye's expression was serious, and it was clear that unlike the playfulness of the previous days, he was serious.

Just when Wang Ye was in a depressed mood and about to go berserk, Bai Jieying spoke up, her voice cool and gentle, flowing like a spring breeze in the hearts of the crowd.

She said apologetically,

“I know I didn't perform well last time and made everyone very unhappy, and this time I've asked Chairman Ling to intercede for me, but……”

She bit her lip and smiled softly, looking pale and endearing as she said,

“I just really like the novel and the other day when I found out I had a chance to be in it, I was so excited I banged on the door and made my family laugh. I really want to achieve my ambition, so please give me another chance, just let me play one more part, I won't let you down.”

Her gaze is determined and she glows with confidence.

Mei Mu Lan pursed her lips and smiled lightly, thinking: This woman's acting skills are really good, it's really hard to deal with.

Bai Jieying's heartfelt confession touched most of the people present, and when the director saw her pleading gaze and Ling Tianye's heartbroken eyes, he nodded helplessly and said,

“All right then, as you say, I'll give you one more chance to do a scene from the script.”

Bai Jieying bowed gratefully with crystal tears in her eyes.

Then Bai Jieying looked at the crowd, and at the sight of a delicate cheongsam with Republican makeup, her pupils visibly zoomed in and out, a micro-expression of surprise that Mei Mu Lan noticed.

And Bai Jieying turned to smile happily, walked towards Mei Mu Lan, took her hand and said with surprise in her voice,

“Sister, are you in this film too? Dad is old and his heart is not good. Last time you suddenly left the family dinner and made him lose face, that's why he said he wanted to break off the relationship with you, but he has regretted it now, but he just can't face it, just forgive him and go home and live together, okay?”

Although these words were spoken in the interest of Mei Mu Lan, there were traps everywhere in these words, and Bai Jieying's words were spoken in public, so what would the onlookers think?

It must be Mei Mu Lan, who is ungrateful and reckless, and who is a wilful and an abominable person.

Mei Mu Lan also took her hand with a surprised look on her face, and her sharp nails pinched hard into her hand, saying,

“Sister, I…… I was just upset with my father. You didn't know that my father was going to marry you off to a business friend who was in his fifties, and I couldn't stand it so I confronted him, didn't you always teach me from a young age that I had to be on the same page with you, but now, you keep blaming me?”

As she said this, she unconsciously showed a stubborn and aggrieved expression, which, together with her dressing style, made people feel strange, but more than that, it made people think that she was a person of true character.

Bai Jieying's back was turned to the crowd, her expression cold, her eyes like ice frozen for a thousand years as she stared at her with a creepy gaze.

Then she took Mei Mu Lan in her arms, her lips close to Mei Mu Lan's earlobe, and she said in a light tone,

“I know your secret, we are both the same, how about working together? It is better than having two sisters struggling with each other. Hmm? What do you say?”

She nibbled lightly on Mei Mu Lan's earlobe and asked.

Ling Yi Yao, who had just come out of the dressing room to change into her ancient costume, was standing not far behind these two people. After taking a look at the quiet atmosphere in the set and seeing Ling Tianye and Bai Jieying, she remembered what happened a few days ago and with a cold look on her face, she slowly walked over to Ling Tianye.

As she passed Mei Mu Lan, she walked without a glance, completely ignoring the two who were hugging each other in an intimate relationship.

But Mei Mu Lan showed a surprised expression, pushed Bai Jieying away, then picked up the camera and walked over to Ling Yi Yao, taking pictures in all directions at 365 degrees, then drooling at Ling Yi Yao, with green wolf-like eyes flashing in her eyes.

She said,

“Ahhhhhhh!!! It's this look, the never seen Ling Yi Yao look, ah, must collect it, ah ah ah ah!!! And ah, and ah, there's nothing between me and this woman, don't get me wrong ah, my heart belongs to you!”

Ling Yiyao: "......" The sense of crisis has reared its ugly head.

Director Wang Ye: "......" Mei Mu Lan is having another brain fart.

The crew in the audience: "......" Mei Mu Lan is having another brain fart.

The shy Bai Jieying on the floor: "......" Shit, this person is definitely the original!

[twiceblackvelvet]

Username: xNotYourJoyx

A/N; hi. i have no clue where this idea came from. i don’t know why my brain always tells me to start more red velvet series’ randomly. but here is the latest spawn from it. this will have more parts to it because i’m interested in expanding on the dynamics of this trio plus i signed up for things that have since blown up my emails for this because i’m dedicated like that. anyway! enjoy. or don’t. idk anymore. 

It was only a suggestion.  A quick mention, really. “There’s this site, Seungwan,” is how it started. Except for that brief conversation spiraled rapidly into a whirlwind of curiosity and excitement. Perhaps, discussing the lack of sex life and the frustration that comes with that whilst you’re supposed to be busy working on the latest financial development wasn’t the smartest move, and yet, the conversation ended in a better resolution than she imagined when Joohyun had managed to pry the information out of her about why she’s been so on edge lately. 

On edge being both literal and metaphorical. Getting to the high is easy, however, toppling over into the rush of being able to feel the full experience of pleasure has been evading her for the last few weeks now. Nothing seems to do the trick and though you may think it’d be fun to simply keep trying, it’s starting to become an issue with the more extreme methods she attempts. So, it desperately needs to be fixed, just not in front of all of her colleagues who are idly typing away the dull workday. 

The rest of the day drags along. Nothing particularly interesting happens which Seungwan is grateful for, she could do without the extra stress. Though, she’s sure the new sponsorship to promote a dead-end product that everyone had warned their boss about will cause a headache in the future, she ignores the nagging feeling in the back of her mind. Joohyun was kind enough to buy dinner for the both of them which her stomach is currently grateful for as she’s certain her fridge at home is empty. But, watching her friend and colleague suckle on the ice cream bar she purchased for herself should not have resulted in her needing to press her legs together on instinct. 

Joohyun didn’t notice, or if she did, she didn’t say anything and continued to lap her tongue across the cold strawberry flavored ice cream. Probably for the best. Nothing good ever comes from getting too involved with people you have to work alongside every day, even if that person does look like Aphrodite herself. The awkward looks between you both, everyone else knowing that the two of you have slept together but are now deciding on which color scheme to use for an advertisement, it just isn’t something that Seungwan wants to deal with. So, she and Joohyun will have to remain platonic. Unfortunately.

It’s late by the time she gets home. The hallway lights leading up to the apartment door flicker every few seconds and the apartment across the hall has the television turned up loud enough that Seungwan is sure they’re trying to let those in hell hear the latest episode of whichever show they’re currently watching. The keys in her hand rattle as she unlocks the stiff door that barely wants to open anymore. The loudness doesn’t disappear once she closes it behind her but it’s home and somewhere she can erase the feeling of being stuck, in more ways than one. 

The latest routine of ordering in unhealthy food that is slowly destroying her insides, a cold shower to wash away some of the exhaustion, and then listening to the same songs for about an hour feels almost robotic but it’s what she’s grown used to now. Once the darkness begins to creep in across the apartment, cold air making the hairs on her arm stand to attention and the neighbors suddenly growing quiet, it’s the small bed in the corner of the room that calls out and the only thing echoing inside her head. 

Well, it would be, had she not suddenly recalled Joohyun’s description of a site where many people frolic and entertain those who perhaps need a little extra help with their more sinful needs. She moves on auto-pilot toward the jacket hanging on the coat rack and reaches into the left side pocket for the small piece of paper where only the web address is scrawled upon it in Joohyun’s perfect handwriting. The laptop she bought years before and barely runs anymore rests on the dining table she never sits at, closed, and with a line of dust taking up home upon it. Grabbing it, she plops herself down onto the bed after removing her dressing gown and the towel around her hair which has long since dried and throwing it into a corner of the room to be cleaned up tomorrow. 

Her fingers trace the keyboard idly, never pressing in a single key, simply going back and forth over the letters whilst her brain tries to decipher if this is something she wants to try out. 

“Fuck it.” She thinks. Soon enough, the site is loading, slowly, and asking for her to confirm she is of legal age to enter it. 

The screen finally loads and brings up a bunch of profiles under the “popular” banner. To say that the sight of all the various people before her is overwhelming would be an understatement. A sidebar reveals that she can choose a category as well as filter out specific things that are not of her interest. Some of the categories are the standard you would expect, for example, she immediately filters to only see profiles of women. However, others are a little more out there and specific toward what Seungwan assumes are people’s fetishes. A lot of them are things that she would never consider a person could find interesting sexually, and yet, the option is right before her. She ignores the curious voice inside of her head telling her to click on some of them. 

A screen full of women now presents itself in front of her. All of them are beautiful and there’s a whole variety to choose from. The profile pictures range from selfies where they’re simply smiling to some of them being without clothing whatsoever. She scrolls for quite some time simply admiring all of the choices before her until one, in particular, captures her attention. 

Wide dark eyes with hair of the same shade of brown, plump lips that are sporting a small smirk that’s both enticing and teasing. Part of the girl’s neck is on display for Seungwan to imagine herself kissing and biting softly. Without hesitation, she hovers over the username and clicks onto the profile. 

“xNotYourJoyx” she repeats mentally a few times. 

The next page reveals a sign-up box that doesn’t allow Seungwan to venture any further. She’s quick to type in her email address, a username not as clever as she would like and the same password she uses for everything else. The next step is to add her bank details in order to be able to subscribe to various pages. She hesitates at this portion realizing that it’s probably very easy for people to fall too far down this rabbit hole. Thus she promises herself not to subscribe to anything until she’s 100% sure. 

After completing her profile, she’s brought back to the girl she assumes is named Joy or at least uses that name here. Her subscription rate is the first thing to appear. Her price is low Seungwan thinks, around $10 when she was expecting something far higher based on the type of content Joohyun had told her the people on the site create. The next part is an Amazon wishlist with various items in it ranging from hair extensions, expensive perfume, and medical equipment? She must be a nurse, Seungwan thinks. 

Further down the page reveals a VIP service which is more expensive than the standard subscription but allows for you to request specific pictures or videos. There are rules that come along with it which Seungwan reads multiple times over. 

Don’t ask me to say or tell you anything personal about me, we are not friends. You don’t know me like that. 

No, you can’t have my Instagram or any other social media so don’t ask. 

Don’t be a dick. 

My amazon wishlist is not for me. I am not a doctor. But I’m down to dress as one for you if you’re into that. 

“Well, that clears that up I guess.” She thinks. 

For the next ten minutes, Seungwan simply scrolls through the free content on offer from Joy. A few shots of her without clothes but covering her body up with her hands or a sheet, all of which look professionally done which is surprising.  She’s captivated and drawn in by this girl a lot quicker than she thought she would be, she can see why Joohyun would recommend such a thing to her now. The possibilities are endless and there are no strings attached. It’s an ideal situation for both parties. 

Despite making the promise to herself, she’s quick to subscribe to Joy’s feed but ignores the large “upgrade to VIP” logo that’s glistening in gold below the payment button. It would seem strange or suspicious surely to her if someone new to her profile was suddenly paying for the premium option Seungwan tries to logic with herself. 

A few seconds pass as the page reloads itself before finally Joy’s profile is unlocked for Seungwan’s eyes to devour. The same type of photos as previously, however, without anything covering herself up. The same natural reaction to jam her thighs together that she felt earlier with Joohyun ends up happening again except this time she positions her hand under the waistband of her bed shorts. 

The further she explores everything Joy has posted the more the need to be touched becomes overwhelming Before she knows it her fingers are gently caressing her soft skin slowly yet with desperation. Many of the images have comments from other people praising the effortless beauty that Joy manages to convey with ease. Seungwan thinks that Joy must be someone with great confidence to display herself so openly like this. She wishes she too were able to picture herself in the way that Joy likely does. 

Her body aches for some release but once more she’s not able to reach the peak as the page of images suddenly comes to an end. Once more, the gold button for premium appears and tells Seungwan she’s reached the limit of what she can see. A blurring effect does a good job of hiding what follows next, however,  what it doesn’t do is stop her from being enticed further when she spots that Joy has also uploaded videos of herself, they are simply hidden from those on the basic subscription as her. 

Almost sub-consciously she finds herself going against every warning sign inside of her mind telling her that paying to watch Joy rather than just look at her is a bad decision, one she will definitely come to regret or become too attached to doing, and yet, it’s too late once she’s confirmed the upgrade and clicked onto the first video that appears. 

White background, likely a wall in her home, Seungwan thinks, until finally the girl steps into the frame with yet another smirk on her lips.  

“Hello, welcome to premium. Thank you for subscribing. I hope you enjoy all of the videos and pictures that only a select few of you will ever get to see. If you’re feeling even more generous please be sure to check out my wishlist. Now, let’s have fun together.” 

Her voice is silky smooth, Seungwan thinks. She replays the simple video a few times just to hear her make this decision sound like she’s part of an exclusive club where only she is invited, though, she’s aware that isn’t true at all. Joy likely has a ton of people paying to see the most intimate parts of her. The comments on this simple welcoming video are at 59 which means at least that many people have also fallen into the trap, though if Joy is the prize, Seungwan wonders if be tricked into paying extra like this is worth it in the end. 

She decides to read through some of them just to get a sense of how people communicate with her here. 

ksgeees says: can’t wait for you to send me my video Joy😏

canudoit2609 says: so hot🔥

r4bb1tfr13nd says: damn i should have subbed earlier🥵🥵🥵

speedzoom0408 says: YOU CAN HAVE ALL MY MONEY

HYUNSKY says: most beautiful girl ever 

Strangely, the latter comment is the only one Joy has bothered to give a reply to. 

xNotYourJoyx says: @HYUNSKY wow, thank you😳

The compliment is definitely correct and deserving of a reply, yet, Seungwan wishes she were the one to tell Joy such things and have her respond solely to her. Jealousy is a green-eyed monster and though she probably shouldn’t be feeling it toward a complete stranger, she does. The sound of the keys as she types out her own comment with her free hand that hasn’t been teasing herself is the only thing she can hear now. Not even the wind outside is able to pierce her eardrums and break her from this spell that Joy has put her under. 

Wannie2102 says: you are so perfect, Joy.

It’s simple and Seungwan hates it, but she simply must tell this girl something, anything, in hopes that she sees it and feels happy to be complimented. 

Silence now, nothing but the screen before her for light inside the cold bedroom. The list of videos, 71 in total, tempting Seungwan, taunting almost. Her left hand numb now from just resting against her own body whilst her right-hand clicks onto the next one in the list after the welcoming video. 

The same white background, however, Joy is positioned in the video as soon as it starts this time. Laying down on a black crushed velvet sofa in only her underwear. Her right hand gently caressing her breasts as she grunts out a few low moans. Her left hand in a similar position to where Seungwan is resting her own. The tired and slow circles in which she moves her hand causes her eyes to roll into the back of her head as Seungwan changes her own pace to match that of Joy’s on the screen. 

Her bed creaks with every movement of Joy’s that she mimics, the headboard bashing against the wall behind her whenever Joy quickens her pace and then sounds like a light drumming whenever she slows. The neighbor next door has definitely been awakened by the rhythmic sound of Seungwan rocking her body against her fingers. 

“You’re enjoying this, huh?” The words surprise Seungwan out of her reverie as it’s as if Joy is present and asking her specifically and knowing that she too is pleasuring herself as she is doing. Without even thinking she manages to gasp out a yes in reply that only she can hear, yet gains a response from Joy almost like she can magically hear her. “I wish I could watch you touch yourself to me.” she pauses to lowly moan. “For me.” 

The pressure rises between her thighs once more except this time her body allows her to release every bit of tension she’s had to keep trying to get rid of for weeks. Her entire body collapses against itself as she indulges herself in what she’s convinced is the longest orgasm to ever exist. Her legs shaking wildly as her arm tenses up and flex to make sure she feels every bit of her undoing. The sound of Joy finishing up her own continues to play in the background for further motivation but the deed has already been done. 

She rests momentarily, staring up at the ceiling as gentle pants fill the room both from herself and the laptop. Nothing else in the world matters at this very moment. However, once more Joy manages to surprise Seungwan with her telepathic way of just knowing somehow when to speak to her viewer. 

“Thank you for that, I hope you come back soon for more.” and then the video ends. 

A dark screen replacing the beautiful image of Joy just as spent as Seungwan feels. But, now she’s left to think about everything that has just transpired between herself, the screen and a girl she doesn’t even know. Guilt wells up in her chest and she slams the screen shut almost shattering the glass. “Why did you do this?” is the only thing that repeats inside of her mind. No longer focused on the pulsating feeling against her hand as she pulls it out of her shorts too fast and whips herself with the waistband which will no doubt sting in the morning.

Her legs shakily drag her body to the bathroom almost tripping over various clothes that have sat there waiting to be cleaned for way too long now. She turns on the shower for the second time tonight and steps into it, almost falling immediately. The cold water shocks her body into feeling something other than the after-effects of pleasuring herself. Scrubbing every inch of her body intensely and repeating inside of her mind that she’ll cancel the subscription tomorrow and never do anything like this ever again. She can’t. Joy is a stranger and she shouldn’t be doing these things.

By the time she’s finished almost burning her skin with the washcloth to make sure she’s rid herself of her sins and changing her fair skin to a reddish shade, the clock on the bedside table shows that there are only three hours before she’s due to wake up for work. The bed seems tainted now, so she grabs the blanket and sleeps on the sofa that is far less comfortable. 

Joohyun is definitely going to ask her about whether or not she used the site, definitely going to notice the dark circles under her eyes from the lack of sleep and will definitely draw up her own conclusion anyway no matter what her answer is. She tries her best not to think about any of this but there’s just a constant loop of the images of Joy, the sound of her voice, and the way she encouraged Seungwan to feel again. 

She dreams of dark hair and brown eyes that night and moans that could be the most heavenly sound in the world or a new addiction that Seungwan isn’t ready for but may not have a choice but to indulge in it. 

pt. ii